It's Not Always Black and White
by TheMainManVinny
Summary: An adaptation of the storyline in Pokemon Black and White, with more realism and maturity. Witness the rise of Team Plasma as it could have been, with Ghetsis at its head and N as the puppet dancing to his strings. King, an office worker, must contend with the ideals of Team Plasma and the weight of his past if he is to ever achieve his dreams of being a great trainer.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Ghetsis watched as Bronius dragged Serperior before him. Crimson blood traced behind it, glinting in the flickering candlelight. He placed the serpent's slumped body with feigned tenderness in front of a young N, then fled the room. The small boy whimpered, tears coating his cheeks as he stroked the Pokemon's head and stared into its dull eyes.

Ghetsis circled behind him, footfalls echoing against the marble flooring. He could smell the animal's blood, sharp and metallic. Good. That meant N could, as well.

"Do you see, my son?" Ghetsis whispered, leaning into N's ear. "This is what humans do to Pokemon. They are venomous. They are malicious!"

He knelt beside the boy, laying his one good hand atop the Serperior's stiff, cold skin. His other arm crusted over with a black like charcoal. It throbbed in tune with his heart. Calling his name. Taunting him. Oh, those who'd done that to him would pay. And N was the key to his vengeance.

"You are not like them, N," Ghetsis said. "You understand Pokemon. In time, you will free them. You will be the herald to save these poor, little creatures."

"I can't hear its voice, father," N whispered. "Why can't I hear its voice?"

Ghetsis placed a hand atop N's head. His hair, greenish like Ghetsis' - though he wasn't N's biological father - was soft to the touch. No. Ghetsis would never have a son like this monster, this inhuman, who could supposedly speak to Pokemon.

"It has died, my son," Ghetsis said. "Do you see the wounds along its body? It is what humans do."

Ghetsis, of course, had killed the creature himself.

"This is horrible," said the boy, choking on his tears.

"Yes. Yes, it is."

"We have to do something, father. We have to."

Ghetsis turned, folding his hands behind his back, fingering the dead skin of his right hand. He could feel the edges of his lips slowly creeping upward.

"In time, my son," he said. "In time."

CHAPTER ONE

"Obnoxious kid. I'll crush that foolish pride, right along with that Charizard of yours!"

King leaned forward in his office chair. His cubicle enclosed the space around him, gray like the slate-colored walls of a prison.

He turned his attention back to the crystal-clear computer screen, idly tapping at a miniature Pokeball model he had beside his keyboard.

"I've battled gym leaders and countless other trainers up until now," Red thought, his high-pitched voice trailing up through King's headphones. "I've seen how they care for and love their Pokemon! These badges here are proof that I understand how the gym leaders feel!"

King hit the space bar with a click, pausing the video, then snickered into his elbow. Seriously? Red expected to win because he loved his Pokemon? What a bunch of garbage.

_This TV show is horrible_, he thought, shaking his head. _He'll never win, especially not against Giovanni's Rhydon. What a severe type-disadvantage right there. One stone edge is all it takes._

He glanced over his shoulder, checking to see if Terrance, his boss, had come around to check on him yet. King sniffed, still smelling donuts on the air. Terrance and the others were still busy chowing down, no doubt.

He clicked the video back on.

"I won't lose to you!" Red shouted. "Not to a person like you!"

_Yeah, yeah. Let's see the battle already._

Red and Giovanni both sent out their Pokemon, Charizard, and Rhydon; then, they called out the same move: Mega Punch. What kind of tactical strategy was that? Red wasn't even attempting to play to Charizard's strengths, like utilizing the fact that it could _fly_. Lazy bastard.

The two Pokemon collided. King upped his volume.

"Use Mega Kick!" Yelled Red.

"Fury Attack!" Giovanni called back.

Charizard flew backward, cracking into the wall behind it with a crash. Rhydon charged with a Horn-Drill. King leaned even farther forward.

And a sudden Seismic-Toss from a recuperated Charizard then ended the battle.

King let out a breath he'd been holding and finally sank back, the soft backrest of his chair pressing against his shoulders. Red had pulled out another miraculous win, of course. King understood the need for a passionate battle with showy explosions of dust, ideals between Pokemon trainers on the line, but, in actuality, that was hardly how it ever happened. The writers could have, at the very least, added some semblance of tactical-

Someone rapped at his shoulder. King blinked, pulling out his headphones. The steady patter of rain against the office's glass windows flooded into his ears, along with the distant howling of the wind. King didn't have to turn around to know who loomed behind him; he already smelled that nauseating cologne.

He sighed, then glanced over his shoulder anyway.

Terrance was a heavy-set man who consistently managed to appear as though he was a Cheri berry about to pop. His signature Pidove perched atop his left shoulder, oblivious, as it licked it's wings, to how much Terrance leaned forward in an attempt to look imposing. It didn't work: that particular physiological effect of invading someone's personal space became rather ineffective when they knew you were doing it.

"My office," Terrance said, dropping his voice a pitch lower than what it usually was. His Pidove chirped. "Now."

He turned on his heel and strode off, leaving King glad he could breathe through his nose again, what with that smell gone.

He rubbed his eyes, tiredness burning at their edges. He'd been up late again considering how a pre-evolution Pokemon might go about beating one two stages higher than itself, like a Charmander attempting to win against a Charizard. Whether that was possible or not, of course, depended on the intellect and determination of the trainer controlling it.

Rolling a shoulder, King stood and pressed the power button on his monitor, then on his desktop, watching the monitor screen flick to black as he shut everything off. He pocketed the miniature Pokeball he'd been rolling around in his hand, then followed after Terrance.

He turned out of his cubicle. The office was quiet; only the monotonous hum of a few computers, along with the clicking of keys, sounded over the ceaseless rain. Most people were in the glass-walled conference room to his right, eating donuts. Pokemon scampered all about in there, and people tilted their heads back with laughter. He couldn't hear them through the walls, even with the door creaked open a bit, which was how he'd smelled the donuts earlier. None of them were working, yes, but Terrance enjoyed singling him out because King was smarter, and didn't come prancing over as soon as called.

King adjusted his collar and tie, then started walking, putting his hands in his pockets. The office heat soaked through his undershirt like water through a thin cloth. Terrance was too cheap to allow the air-conditioners to be turned on, even during the middle of Summer.

Continuing on, he passed empty cubicle after empty cubicle. The majority of people who worked for the Battle Company would be down a few floors, battling one another for research purposes. King had no Pokemon to do that, of course.

Just before the door to Terrance's office, he stopped. Up above him, in the corner between two of the whitewashed walls, a flat-screen TV hung, where a pretty woman with auburn hair relayed the latest news. Apparently, the government was sponsoring a tournament for new trainers. King had heard the number of them who actively battled was at an all-time low; no doubt, this tournament's purpose would be to promote Pokemon battling. The strength of the economy, after all, depended on the sale of such items as Pokeballs and Potions. More trainers meant more of those things would sell, thus boosting the economy.

King stared at the program for a prolonged moment before stepping into his boss's office. The reek of his cologne stained the whole room.

Terrance folded his hands atop his desk; his bulbous face creased by a deep frown.

"What took you so long?" He demanded.

King shrugged. "Interesting thing on the television outside."

"You watch your attitude, Mr. Parkman," Terrance said, wagging a meaty finger in King's direction. He flicked his head toward the chair opposite himself, obviously more bland in style than his own. "Sit."

King did so. Terrance's Pidove, still on his shoulder, cocked its head at King.

"Do you know why I called you into my office, Mr. King Parkman?"

King cleared his throat. "I can imagine why. Listen, Terrance, I understand you're trying to promote a sense of community and all that with inviting everyone into the conference room, assembling them around food. Ostensibly, This meeting is because I'm not working, but the others have been allowed to break from working. So I can only assume the actual reason you've called me in here, is because you're upset I don't take part in these 'generous givings' of yours. That I'm not so easy to coax as some of the others."

Impossibly, Terrance's face flushed even redder than it already had been. Maybe he actually _would_ pop.

"You think you know everything, don't you, Mr. King Parkman?" He spat, shoving a finger down onto the table. "I'm your boss, kid; you aren't mine!"

"Referencing my age now, eh, Terrance? That's a pretty poor attempt at trying to look superior. I'll tell you a little something about leadership, though. You don't get people to listen to what you're saying by stating, 'I'm da boss.' Or, as a matter of fact, by giving them donuts."

"That right?" Terrance roared, snapping to a stand. His Pidove took to the air above him, chirping loudly. The office outside had gone still; he could almost hear the bated breaths of those outside.

"Why aren't you in my position then?" Terrance said.

King shrugged again. "I have no desire to be in that position."

"Why you little…" Terrance rounded the desk, nostrils flaring as he came to stand over King. "Listen to-"

"Watch out. This behavior isn't very fitting of-"

"Mr. Park-"

"Step back, Terrance. That little trick of yours doesn't work on me."

He did so, but his fists had begun to clench and unclench, clench and unclench. King smirked up at him, folding his hands in his lap.

"Get out," Terrance whispered.

King frowned. "What?"

"Get out!" He screamed, pointing to the door. "Grab your things and go! I'm firing you!"

"Hold on; you can't-"

"GET OUT!"

King froze. He could hear only the chirping Pidove, like a blaring alarm, and Terrance's labored breathing. A thick tension, almost palpable, settled in the office, weighing on King's shoulders. Suddenly a sour taste permeated out from the corners of his mouth. He'd done it again, hadn't he? He'd gotten fired from another job.

King fled. Outside, the others scowled and glared at him. He disregarded them with a sneer and strode from the building, toward the elevator, where he clicked one of the buttons and descended to the lobby. The receptionist said nothing to him, and he said nothing to her as the glass door exiting the building opened for him as if kicking him out. Moist air rushed over him as he stepped into the rain descending from a dark, starless sky.

The door slid shut behind him. The skyscrapers of Castelia City rose around him like judgmental spires. He looked straight up, letting the storm batter his face as the wind whipped about his soaked attire. Even the streetlights and illuminated windows of buildings couldn't do anything to expel the darkness.

He turned, grasping the miniature Pokeball in one hand, and left the Battle Company building behind.


	2. Chapter 2

N would be a king.

Not one like those who had ruled over people and lands alike in the first days of Unova, but different. A symbol, instead. Commanding over others had never been, nor ever would be his goal. His golden scepter would be like the wand he used to restructure society into a place where beautiful Pokemon didn't become exploited for entertainment and labor. The crown that would rest on his head would be the representation of that ideal. People and Pokemon alike would look at it and smile.

His father Ghetsis carried that crown into the throne room, boots clanking on the floor. The golden headpiece glinted in the light of the chandeliers, which cast a halo down on N and his seven sages, who flanked either side of the raised dais he stood on.

N grinned. He loved and admired his father, perhaps more than he did anyone else. Ghetsis was a kind, selfless person; N had seen it. He'd gone out of his way to show N the horrors of the outside world. Without him, N wouldn't be anything. He'd never of had the opportunity to show the world the error of its ways, and free Pokemon so they could live in happiness, as all living things deserved.

Ghetsis stepped on to the dais. He returned N's smile as he came to stand in front of him.

"My son," he whispered. "I am so proud of you."

N beamed. "Thank you, father."

"Are you prepared for this burden? Are you prepared to lead the world into a new age?"

"Yes, father. I am."

N bowed his head, and Ghetsis slid the crowd in place over his forehead. It was cold against his skin. Ghetsis pulled his arms back, but not before N saw the charred skin of his right arm, as black as a Zorua's fur. He had never told N how that had happened, despite the many times he'd asked.

Ghetsis backed away, leaving N to stand alone. Cheers and claps erupted from the seven sages, their robes swaying and their necklaces catching the light. In the distant corner of the room, his sisters, Anthea and Concordia, both paragons of beauty and kindness, smiled at him and clapped softly.

Freeing Pokemon was the sole reason he'd been born into the world. He spoke to them; he heard their voices when no one else could. He would take all of their pleas and cries for salvation upon himself.

Once the sages had quieted down, his father ushered them from the room, speaking in hushed tones that didn't carry quite so far in the throne room that he could hear what they said. They would all return to their various duties in the castle, which had once belonged to ruler-kings. Ghetsis had long since appropriated it for them.

He stepped down onto the floor. It glistened enough that, when he looked down, he could see his reflection in the tiled marble. The crown fit snuggly over his pulled-back green hair. _This really is my purpose._

Anthea and Concordia stepped in front of him. He looked up and smiled.

"Congratulations, N," Anthea said. "We're so proud of the man you've become."

"I am who I am because of you both and father," he said, shaking his head.

Concordia came to stand behind him, laying a soft hand on his shoulder. The three of them hadn't ever had a mother, but Concordia had dutifully taken that job upon herself, as the oldest.

"Come now," she said. "How about I fetch you something to eat?"

He frowned. "Why? Father said we were to travel to Accumula Town.

"Come, come," she said, hustling him out of the room. Anthea followed at their side. "A little bite to eat before you go will only help."

He sighed but found that his smile hadn't disappeared in the slightest. "Alright, Concordia. But only if you two eat with me."

They chuckled in response and agreed.

_This day marks the start of everything_, he thought. _Soon the world will be a better place than it ever has been before._


	3. Chapter 3

King stepped up to his apartment building. Sunlight reflected against its many windows; the rain had since passed, but not before it'd soaked King down to his very bones. His clothes, intent on staying plastered to his skin, were damp and soggy, especially around the shoulders.

He searched the face of the building with heavy eyes. He could almost pick out the windows of his room, apartment fifteen-fourteen, among all the others. After dealing with air-head Terrance, sinking into his bed was exactly what he needed. Maybe a few beers to get him relaxed, as well, even though he wasn't yet twenty-one, but twenty. Close enough. His level of maturity went way beyond where he needed regulation on what he did and didn't drink. He understood the law, of course, but he wasn't going to follow it.

King stepped forward, letting the glass doors of the apartment complex slide open before he headed into the lobby. In terms of layout, the building was much the same as the Battle Company. Castelia City could do with some variety. People and Pokemon bustled about here, filling the room with their noise, blocking his way to the hallway elevator at the far left. He pushed past them, ignoring some dirty looks he got from a select few who didn't enjoy getting thrown off-kilter a little bit. He didn't care much: he had other things to think about.

Turning down the hallway, he went a little ways before stopping at the elevators. He tapped the up button on one of them, watching as it alighted with a soft yellow glow in response to his touch. Yes. Other things to think about. Like the fact that he hadn't paid his rent in… a long time.

There weren't many other options now other than getting evicted. Already, Samantha, his landlord, had warned him that it would happen if he continued not to make monthly payments to her. No more beer then. But he didn't have the money to pay it, especially now that he'd gotten himself fired. Again. He'd have hell to pay, once Samantha heard of that.

The elevator doors slid open. Someone strode out, a Munchlax - that was rare in Unova - trailing at her heels. In terms of usefulness, Munchlax didn't have much going for it, but Snorlax had the potential to be a battlefield asset if used right. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and took their place inside the elevator. He tapped the button for floor fifteen; the doors shut, and the elevator jolted upward. Bland music jingled out from the speakers.

King happened to be a firm believer that no matter what situation, anyone could get out of it if they were rational and intelligent enough. Most people, of course, that didn't pertain to, due to laziness or other factors like not being smart in the first place. For him, however, that would apply to convincing Samantha into giving him more time. She'd probably be waiting outside his door. He would own up to what he had done, then figure out some plan to get the payments to her before she kicked him out.

The elevator came to a stop, then reopened.

He sighed immediately. In front of him, in the hallway, stood Stephanie: an uptight woman in a business suit. King noted she looked particularly rat-like today. He'd never liked her - and not solely because she had an uncanny knack for tracking him down - but because she regularly ran around huffing and puffing with anger. Was it so hard to control your emotions instead of letting them take command over you? Like they were the driver and she the car.

The doors began to slide shut when he didn't step out, but she strode forward and jammed her foot between it, then pried it open with hands which had the nails painted pink.

She glared at him. "Get out here."

He blinked and did so, moving past her. _Well, here we go. I'm dealing with a lot of these people today, it seems._

She whirled on him. "Oho, I've been waiting for you, King. Mr. Fired-from-his-job."

"What?" He said, eyebrows knitting together. "How the hell do you know about that already?"

She nodded slowly, confidently. "Oh, yes. Remember Tracey? No, you probably don't, always cooped up in your own head. She works at the Battle Company. Told me all about your little antics, King. I just got done reading her texts!"

He tsked. _Damn_.

He'd forgotten all about Tracey. He should have paid more attention to who his colleagues were and their connections. He would have foreseen this happening and planned accordingly. Any situation could be overcome with enough intelligence, yes, but this was a slip-up on his part.

"Do you remember the eviction notice I gave you?" She went on, pointing a finger at him. "Well, you've done nothing to prevent being kicked out, so-"

"Listen, Stephanie, just listen for a moment, would you?" He interrupted. "Sort through those memories of yours to where I had a stable job. I've been a tenant for three years, Stephanie, three long years. You're upset. Right. I'm not in the right here, believe me; I'll admit that, but I will get another job, and when I do, guess what? You'll have money coming out your ass, so fast you won't know what to do with it."

"No." She shook her head. "No, I don't believe a single word, Parkman. I'm evicting you, and that is that. I don't want to take this to court, but I'm terminating your lease. If you're not out in a month, to court we go, so get whatever you have in there and. Get. It. Out!"

"Hold-"

"End of discussion! You've got a tongue like a Seviper! Better to rent that room to someone who will pay!" She stormed off, heels clicking.

He sighed. So much for using intellect to prolong his stay in the apartment. He supposed that sometimes, especially when the other person became fueled with emotion, that there wasn't anything you could do. Because of that, in thirty days, he would be homeless.

He took in a deep breath, then exhaled it in one go. Everything had come crashing down around him in a single day; that brittle foundation he'd managed to build with so much time and effort. _Should have planned for this. Should have done something…_

He shoved his hands in his pockets and started down the narrow hall; its walls painted a cerulean color. There was nothing to do now except keep trudging forward. He'd think of something. He always did.

The door to his room loomed in front of him. The keys he'd had in his pocket jingled as he pulled them out. He stuck it in the lock, turned it, and the door clicked and crept open.

Posters of various Pokemon battles lined the walls. King looked about, shutting the door behind him. Rays of sunlight trickled in from the window at the far wall, splaying out on the clean wooden floor and folded blankets tucked into the corners of his couch. The room still smelled of the breakfast he'd cooked that morning: pancakes. But that wasn't right. How could the smell have lingered for hours?

He threw his keys on to a table by the door. They landed with a clatter as he moved into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, cold air smacking him in the face.

Gone. Food like that was a luxury at this point, but no sign of the pancakes remained.

_Did someone really break into my apartment just to steal pancakes? Really. How pathetic is that?_

Calmly, he stepped out from the kitchen and into the living room. The possibility remained that they were still in the apartment, whoever it was that had stooped that low. But if someone had broken in…

To his right, beside the couch, the door to his bedroom lay opened. The slit from which he could see through showed nothing but inky blackness.

He approached, placing a palm on the wooden face of the door and pushing. It creaked with a low groan. He reached inside, peering inward, and flicked on the light-switch.

A man stood at the foot of his bed.

King jolted into motion, darting back into the kitchen, shoes scraping against the wooden floor. He threw open a drawer with a bang. _Knife. Where's the knife?_

The man came out of the bedroom. King whipped his head up, knife held in one hand, jaw clenched. He froze.

Wispy red hair. Brown eyes. Gray undershirt, with a black tie and pants. He looked… he was looking at himself.

_Wait!_ A voice echoed in his head. _I… come in peace!_

The form dissolved into light, and in an instant, King stared at a small Zorua with a sheepish grin on its face.


	4. Chapter 4

"You must see! This world requires change!"

People stopped and stared at N, where he stood atop the swaying grass of Accumula's town square. A real _town_, with buildings everywhere that stretched upward from the ground, people chatting and laughing in the paved streets between them. The palace would dwarf most of the structures, but even so, this was a place where real _people_ lived. The smells of soil and fabric rose into the air, and no matter where in the town he had gone, always he heard the sound of conversation. N found himself loving it.

But one thing he did not like. A storm cloud that hung over the town. And that was the Pokemon forced to live here against their will. Accumula Town was a place for people, not for the poor creatures. He refused to believe they lived in harmony.

"The Pokemon," N continued, gesturing with his arms out before himself, inviting people to come and listen to his words. "Are suffering! You must open your eyes and be witness to this truth! I hear their voices, they cry to me and tell me of their troubles, yet we continue to constrain them in devices and work them until their bones can labor no longer! All because we are lazy!"

The wind whipped at N's hair, warming one side of his face. A small crowd of people gathered in front of him. He heard their mumbles and saw their faces furrowed in confusion, but he continued to go on. Often, the truth was hard to swallow.

"They are suffering," he said, softening his voice now that they had accumulated. "But I believe change can occur. I believe in the people. Pokemon deserve so much better than what we give them."

Beside him, Ghetsis frowned. N's heart tightened in his chest. Had he said something that his father didn't like?

He went on. "I ask you to consider my words, and then ask something of yourselves: is our relationship with Pokemon truly that at all, or is it merely a selfish use of their kind nature for our gain?"

N lowered his hands, as Ghetsis had told him to do, which would signal to the crowd that he had finished speaking. Some frowned, and yet others laughed as they departed away from him to continue their daily tasks.

N clenched his jaw, watching them go in frustration, but the feeling changed when he turned to speak to Ghetsis. What had N said wrong? Why didn't the people look like they were considering his words?

His father motioned to a nearby bench. N sat eagerly, feeling the solid wood press underneath his shoulder-blades. Ghetsis, with a flourish of his magnificent robe, sat beside him.

"Why didn't they listen to me, father?" N blurted out. "I appealed to their emotions."

"You did, my son," Ghetsis said, leaning forward. The edges of his lips turned slightly downward, not quite a frown, but in the way that happened whenever he was displeased. "But do not say you believe in humans. They are evil creatures. They can be made to see, my son, but you must not grow to believe they are good. Do you understand me?"

"I… I do, father."

He patted N's knee with his scarred hand, then leaned back in satisfaction. "Good. You listen to me, and the world will be a better place for it. My son, you must be the one to preach to the populace. _You_ are the only one fit to do so. Your ability to speak to Pokemon is proof of that."

N shifted. "But they didn't seem to be listening to me, father. Please don't mistake me, I don't doubt your wisdom, but most of them simply laughed as if what I was saying was completely nonsensical."

"They gathered around you. That is enough, for now. You have planted the seed of doubt, and they will begin to talk."

N smiled, content with that. Ghetsis always knew what was best, and knew more than anyone how the world worked. N trusted his judgment completely.

One of the Seven Sages, who had been waiting nearby, removed from the speech, came to Ghetsis and whispered in his ear. N couldn't hear what they said, but he didn't have any desire to listen. His father's business was his own.

Ghetsis stood suddenly. When N moved to follow, he laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll be leaving for now," Ghetsis said. "Explore the town. See what humans are. I will come to get you later."

N opened his mouth to protest, but his father left with the Sages before he had a chance to speak to him._ I may as well make the best of it. There is so much I've never seen before like a whole new world spread out before me._

He stepped down from the town square. Above, thin, wispy clouds trailed along the blue sky, pulled by the constant wind. He admired their beauty, common as clouds and blue skies might be.

He started down the narrow street, flanked on both sides by buildings. He wasn't alone, of course, not in a town; most people walked along the sidewalk with him, enjoying the warmth of the sun, and a car only passed now and again. Trees seemed to sprout wherever they were allowed purchase, their branches like fingers reaching up toward the sun.

The sound of a jingling bell pulled his attention to the side. It came from a pink-colored building next to the street, with round, umbrellaed tables out in front where people ate and drank, laughed and talked. The smell of pastries spilled out of the glass doorway. The tiny, golden bell attached to its rim sounded each time someone entered.

N found his legs moving in that direction, almost is if the enticing smells were a rope pulling them along. Accidentally, he bumped into someone near the doorway. N apologized first, then went inside.

A counter ran along the far wall, which a large man with hairy arms wiped down with a rag. Stools lined the other side, where people sat hunched over food and drink. To N's left, right below the windows, were caramel-colored tables and booths, sunlight splaying down atop them. Some sat there, as well. N wondered why someone would choose to sit at the counter when they could relax beside the windows, watching the sky and the town.

"Hey, kid, you gonna answer me?"

He blinked. The burly man behind the counter had stopped cleaning to look at him.

"Oh, I'm sorry," N said, "What did you say?"

"What'll it be?"

"What will what be?"

The man frowned. "Your order?"

_Oh! He's asking me what I want to eat or drink_. N searched the room with his eyes. How was he supposed to know the selection to choose from?

Trying not to upset the man behind the counter, he settled on something a woman was eating. It did look appetizing.

He pointed at her. "I'll have what she is having."

The man nodded. "Alright. You take a seat wherever you feel like, and I'll have someone bring it over for you."

As he spoke, N looked at him, trying to find the evil glare in his eyes that he knew would be there, but he saw nothing except kindness.

He glanced away, taking a seat by the window. Light washed over his face as he gazed out and watched the people pass.

Humans were evil. He knew that. As clear as day, he could remember a Serperior, cold and without life, being dragged before him. Ghetsis had said it had been abused and eventually killed by humans. But were humans all like that? His father and his sister, no, of course not, but they were the exception. Right?

N pursed his lips. Yes. Humans were evil. They had to be. His father had said that, after all, and so it had to be true.

A clattering sound announced his food's arrival. The waitress smiled, and he smiled in return before turning to what she had brought him.

A slice of creamy cake sat on one platter. N beamed. It looked delicious. The other item was a black, steaming liquid in a white cup. Its color reminded him of a night sky, and she'd also given him a small pitcher of milk and a metal spoon to go along with it. He didn't have any clue what it was or why there was milk, but everything smelled good all the same.

As he picked up his fork to cut into the cake, someone slid into the booth across from him. He paused with the fork in midair, looking up. It was the same person whose order he had copied, a petite woman with sun-kissed blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. She looked to be about his age.

"Oh," he said, "Hello."

She leaned forward conspiratorially. "I saw your speech outside. You want to free all Pokemon?"

"Pokemon are oppressed creatures!" He said. "They are hurting each day, and we are blind to their pain."

"Hey, I'm not saying you're wrong," she said, holding up her hands in a pacifying gesture. "I'm just curious. You think people will start to listen to you?"

"Of course," he nodded, taking a bit of his cake. A lemon flavor burst across his tongue. "This is good!"

The woman smiled, then leaned back. "I'm glad I could help you get something you enjoy."

"I apologize," he said, flushing. "I wasn't entirely sure what to order."

Again, she smiled. "My name's Luna. What's yours?"

"You can call me N."

"N, huh? Well, listen, N, you seem pretty dedicated to this cause of yours. Are you going to the Vertress City tournament?"

He froze. "The what?"

"Yeah. The government is sponsoring a tournament for novice trainers at the stadium there. You didn't know about it? I've heard of a lot of people are taking up Pokemon just to participate in it. There's a big cash prize at the end, they say."

"I must go!" He shouted, shooting to a stand. She peered up at him, raising an eyebrow, and many of the people in the building turned to look his way. "I must go. I must stop it from happening."

She shrugged. "Well, be my guest. Maybe I'll see you there."

"Yes, maybe," he said absently, "I must go inform my father."

"Hey! Where are you going? You've gotta pay for your food!"

The bell above the door jingled as he rushed out, ignoring Luna's shouts. He didn't know if there was a way to stop the tournament, but even if he could not, a large crowd would gather there. His father would know what to do. His father would know.


	5. Chapter 5

"What is a Zorua doing in my apartment?"

_Don't yell, sir! I smelled pancakes._

"Great. A Zorua whose voice appears in my head invaded my apartment for pancakes."

King slumped against the counter, exhaling. He dropped the knife he'd been holding back into the drawer, then closed it with a thud.

"Alright," he said, looking at the Pokemon. It trotted over to one of the rays of sunlight trickling in through the window, and laid in the warmth, licking its paws. "Come on, time for you to get out."

It jolted to a stand. _Do I have to leave now?_ King heard in his head. It was a creepy experience like his thoughts were talking to him but in a different, higher voice.

He cleared his throat. "Yup. Out you go. I've got to get all this stuff out of here, anyway."

_Really? How come?_

"Because, I-" He cut himself off, giving it a sideways look. Was he really having a conversation with a Pokemon? It was a wonder how it had gotten into the apartment in the first place. Probably snuck in as he'd been leaving that morning, then raided his fridge while he was gone. He'd have to get rid of it.

"Hey, guess what?"

_Oh, hey! What?_

"There are more pancakes outside. Oh yeah, I keep a whole bunch out there." He stepped over to the door and opened it, gesturing outside. The Zorua scampered over and peered out.

_Really? Where? You're not lying?_

He picked it up, feeling its silky black and red fur brush against his fingers, and placed it outside, then shut the door and clicked the lock. He smiled in satisfaction. _Better go clean the bedroom now_, he thought, stepping in that direction. The apartment still smelled sweet like pancakes, and he imagined he'd have a whole mess of stickiness to clean. Zoruas had always interested King, ever since he was a little kid, because of their unique ability to transform into people and other Pokemon. If used right, that had the potential to be a force on the battlefield, but most trainers he'd seen battle with them tended to underuse the ability or forgo using it altogether. The one he'd placed outside was unusually human-like in its attitude, probably because of some over-developed physic powers. Impressive, sure, but he didn't want any Pokemon around him. Not now, and not ever.

_I can't become a trainer_, he thought._ I can't_. He would find another job, that's what he would do. He'd find another place to live. He had to think of a plan, that was all. That was what he was good at. That was what he could do, what he was best at doing.

_Hey! There aren't any pancakes out there!_

He froze, startled for a moment, then sighed. He glanced over his shoulder in time to see a Tynamo squeezing under the door, then watched as it dissolved into a bright ball of light and appeared back again as a Zorua. It frowned at him.

_Not nice. Don't you have any morals?_

He snorted despite himself. "Morals? What would a Pokemon know about morals?"

_I don't know_, it said, jumping onto his couch. _I just heard a human say that once._

"Alright, listen, get off the couch, would you? You'll get dirt on it."

It gave him a wry smile before tucking into the corner, between the cushion and the arm. King groaned but ended up shaking his head and deciding to ignore the thing. It would leave; eventually, he was sure, if he didn't give it any attention.

He stepped into the bedroom, shoes tapping on the wooden floor. The door creaked as he pushed it all the way open, then undid his tie, which relieved the pressure around his neck. He chucked it onto the bed. Right at the foot, where the Zorua had been standing as King, was an upside-down platter surrounded by syrup that reflected the lamp-light above. King sat down on the bed, pointedly not looking at the poster of a Pokemon battle he had above the backboard.

Thirty days. King would have to hire Gurdurr-Movers to get all his stuff out. Where was he going to get the money for that? Where would he even put the furniture? Where would he live afterward? Where? Where? Where?

_Calm down, King, _he told himself, shuddering. _Calm down. Just start thinking about what to do, and everything will be alright._

That didn't make him feel any better.

_Hey, what are you doing in here?_

King blinked, looking over his shoulder. "You're still here?"

It looked guiltily at the plate on the floor.

_Sorry. I'm sorry, sir. You're probably mad at me. I was just so hungry and everything._

"Never mind that, seriously," he said as it hopped onto the bed. "Why are you still here? I don't have any food left for you."

_I… um…_ Its tail slumped. _I had a friend. He got chosen by a trainer. I thought maybe I'd try and find a trainer, too! It seems like so much fun. Are you a trainer? Have you ever thought about becoming a trainer?_

King froze. _It is not asking me this right now._

_Hey, you can hear me in your brains, right? Are you a trainer?_

"No," he muttered, standing. He licked his lips.

_You're not? Well, why don't you become one? _

"I can't."

_You know, sir, I heard there was this really cool-_

"I said I can't and won't and never will become a trainer!" He shouted, silencing the voice in his head. "Do you understand me? I don't want to become a trainer! This is the life for me!"

Somewhere off in the distance, a Pidove croaked. The thick tension in the bedroom absorbed the chirp until there was nothing left but silence.

The Zorua's ears folded back and it looked like it wanted to curl into itself and cry. Instead, it slunk away from the room, and King had a distinct impression, once it had left, that it had gone for good.

He threw himself down onto the bed, chest heaving. Sweat pooled at the armpits of his undershirt. This wasn't like him. This was entirely unlike him. King didn't let his emotions get the best of him. That was what people of low intelligence, like Terrance and Stephanie, that was what they did, but not King. He was a higher-class of person, the best kind of person. He controlled his emotions. He knew what he wanted. He had a plan for everything at any moment. Oh, yes, ask him anything, and he would have an answer. What are you going to do now that your stupid show of confidence got you fired, King? Oh, don't you worry, King, I know what to do. I know what I want to, and it isn't to become a trainer.

He rose, arms dangling limply at his sides. Every time he looked at the walls around him, it looked like they were coming closer, pushing farther and farther inward until they would squeeze him and crush him down to nothing but blood and dust.

Something needed to change. That Zorua was wrong. King had no desire to become a trainer. And, besides, even if he did, his dad had made it abundantly clear that he would never be good enough. Never compare to him. _Don't ever try it, son. If you do, I will hunt you and your Pokemon down, and I will beat you into the dirt until you never feel like getting up again. You will never be good enough to become a trainer._

He squeezed the bedsheets, so hard that the muscles in his arm felt about to pop. _Don't think about that voice. Ignore that voice. You don't have a father. Oh, yes, that's right. I don't._

He swallowed a deep breath of air, filling his lungs, held it there, then let it all out. Finished with that, he went into the kitchen, wet a rag, and began cleaning up the mess left for him by the Zorua.


	6. Chapter 6

N relished in being able to see the world. Ghetsis agreed that the tournament was an excellent place to spread their ideas, and so together, they began their journey to Vertress City, starting at Striaton City, miles and miles away. N learned the Vertress Tournament was not for another thirty days, and so there was no hurry in arriving on time, not that they would be participants, of course.

On the way, he saw sprawling grasslands and marvelous mountains stretching upward, the knuckles of the earth whose tops melted into the sky. Everywhere were vibrant green trees flourishing in Unova's summer heat, as were the flowers, and all plant-life, including some Pokemon. He witnessed metal cities bustling with people and quaint towns of warehouses and museums. His father kept him close, for fear of his well-being, but N loved the travels nonetheless.

Once, however, in a place of neon-lights and Ferris wheels called Nimbasa City, that they had come to after passing the deserts outside Castelia City, N lost his father in a surging crowd of people. He had immediately scorned himself for acting like a child, as he had been practically mesmerized by the creation of a pink, foam-like food named cotton candy, spun and crafted by an artisan with the aid of his Pokemon. N had tuned his ears and found himself taken aback when he discovered that the Pokemon loved and cherished the one who owned her and the time they spent together. N had stared at them even longer afterward, wondering how that could be.

It, eventually, however, clicked. The Pokemon didn't know any other life, but one of subservience, and so had nothing else for comparison. She did not realize that there was an opportunity away from humans, where she could live life to the utmost and the fullest. She may have been treated decently by her owner, but that was one case, and N could not forgive or forget what he had seen as a child: Pokemon beaten and abused until their life abandoned them. Eventually, Ghetsis had returned and led him away. N had begged his father's forgiveness, and when Ghetsis, being the kind man that he was, did forgive him, they fled the crowds and departed from Nimbasa City.

From there, they crossed together over gleaming waters via the Driftveil Drawbridge, and into Driftveil City, then through the cold mountain passes to Mistveil City, where snow coated the land like a white blanket, and later on to Icirrus City and lastly to Opelucid City. Each place they went, Ghetsis outlined a speech for N to proclaim, and he did so very willingly. In some cities, they gathered more of a crowd than in others, and the reactions they received varied from place to place. Even once, the Unova government attempted to stop them, but Ghetsis' words were that none of it mattered, that they only needed the people to begin thinking, and so N listened. Finally, when they arrived at Vertress City, they performed one last speech before going on their way to the Vertress Arena.

N stared upward in fascination, shielding his eyes from the glaring midday sun. There were five magnificently big arenas in total, each colored differently and arrayed together with one in the center and the four others at diagonal points around it, like a four-limbed star. The city erupted with the sound of tourists everywhere; all come to entertain themselves with Pokemon battles. Tourists, of course, attracted vendors, and so stalls numbering in the hundreds set themselves outside the center arena's entrance, even ten days before the start of the event. The smells of their food intertwined together with the crowds, enticing would-be buyers to purchase their wares.

Ghetsis placed a hand on N's shoulder, pulling his attention away. "Come, my son. I wish to rest after the long journey."

N nodded, beginning to follow his father to one of the many hotels nearby when someone from amid all the people called out his name.

"Hey, N!"

N only turned, blinking, but his father spun toward the noise like a startled Pokemon.

It was Luna that ran toward them, waving her arm in the air, blond hair streaming out behind her like a river of gold. She wore a vibrant yellow dress that matched the sun.

N found himself smiling. He waved as she approached.

"Hi, N!" She greeted, stopping in front of him and Ghetsis.

"Hello, Luna!"

She smiled, then turned toward Ghetsis. "Who's this?"

"Ah, this is my…" He trailed off upon looking at his father. A deep frown had creased into Ghetsis' face, and to N, it was as though the glower invited shadows into his expression that hid between his furrowed eyebrows and down-turned lips. N huddled into himself, glancing away. He did not mean to upset him. "My father."

Luna's smile, however, never faltered as she held out a hand for Ghetsis to shake. He frowned at it.

"Hello," she said. "I'm Luna. It's nice to meet you! I like your robe."

He shook her hand reluctantly as if dirt and grime covered it. "And what is your relationship with my son?"

"Oh!" She said, looking back at N. Ghetsis pulled his hand away and tucked it into the elongated sleeves of his robe. "We're friends. Speaking of, would you like to explore the city with me, N? Not now, I mean, sometime soon, though."

"I would-" N cut himself off, meeting her gaze. He tried to explain without saying any words; he did not want to be mean to Luna, but Ghetsis didn't like her. His father came first. "I-I will be busy, Luna. I'm sorry."

She shook her head, and yet again, her smile didn't fade. How could she continue to do that, when N had been so rude? "That's okay. Maybe I'll see you around!" She turned, waving goodbye to them as she melded back into the crowd. "Anyway, it was nice meeting you, N's dad!"

N looked at his father, face flushed.

"Where did you meet that girl, N?"

"In Accumula Town, father," N rushed to explain. "We only spoke for a moment then, before I learned of the tournament and came to you."

Ghetsis nodded. "I do not want you speaking with this Luna any longer, my son. Am I understood?"

"Yes, of course, father."

"Good. Now, come."

Ghetsis turned his back on N, seeking one of the many hotels. N took one last glance at the crowd before he followed behind his father, rushing to keep up.

Ghetsis was right, of course. N wouldn't speak to Luna, even if he found his thoughts lingering on her and her enticing smile. Even if he wanted badly to have another conversation with her.

But that didn't matter. N had one goal in mind - Ghetsis knew that and was ridding N of any distractions - and his stay at Vertress City wasn't for pleasure, but accomplishing that goal.


	7. Chapter 7

King shuddered against the cold. It was warm in his apartment, of course, but still, he shivered. It was the cold of knowing how many months he would spend without a roof over his head, exposed to biting winds and heavy rains if he didn't do _something_.

He sat alone in the living room of his apartment, arms slumped on his knees, hands dangling toward the floor. It'd been twenty days, and he had yet to relocate a single item of furniture. Grey darkness veiled the room. Water wept from the kitchen faucet, dripping over and over into the metal sink, leaking down into the drain. Drip. Drip. Drip.

He ran a sweaty palm over his forehead, trying to banish the dull thud pounding incessantly behind it. His head felt like someone had jammed it with wool. Three voices, all intermixing together, jumbled about inside. One, high, and child-like. _Are you a trainer? Why don't you become a trainer?_ Another, rigid and cracked enough to sound like two pieces of gravel grating together. _You never try and follow in my footsteps, boy. I'm the greatest there ever was and ever will be. Do you understand me?_ And the last, his voice, weak and uncertain.

_I need to do something._

Someone started to pound at the door. King whipped his head toward the noise, expecting that at any moment, his father would burst through and stomp over to him. Then, the beatings would begin.

Instead, a different voice called out.

"King? You better be in there!" Stephanie. He looked back toward the floor. "I know you can hear me! Get your ass out here and tell me why you haven't moved any of your things out yet! _Now_!"

He stood, swallowing a deep breath, heart pounding in his ears. He had to do it. All the other doors and all the different paths, they were closed and gone now. He had one option, one chance to see if he was good enough. All his life, he had believed that there was one thing he could never do, and that was to become a trainer. He had always been scared that if he tried, his father would kill him for it. Now there weren't any other options.

He circled the couch, heading for the bedroom, ignoring the pounding at the door like a heartbeat. He wreathed a hand around the metal doorknob. The door creaked as he opened it, then stepped inside. Under the bed. That's where it would be.

He came over to the bed, pressing his chest on the floor as he lay. There, right where he had put it all those years ago, was an empty Pokeball caked in dust. The button in the middle stared at him like an eye, taunting him, measuring him up.

_Don't you do it, boy, _his father's voice echoed in his head._ Don't you go and do it. You know what will happen._

King hesitated. Was he going to let his father control his life, who he chose to be, even now? No. He wasn't afraid. He was no longer a sniveling kid who cowered under his father's gaze, always lurking behind him like a beaten Pokemon, forever stuck in his far-reaching shadow. The Vertress Tournament had a cash prize at the end. If he won it, everything would be better. Everything would fall into place. That was the plan he had come up with. That was what he had decided. It was time to take a stand.

King reached out and grabbed the Pokeball.

He stood, stomping away from the bedroom, gripping it tightly in one hand. He did not think. He didn't dare let go of it. If he did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to pick it up again.

Stephanie backed away in surprise as he threw open the door to the hallway.

"King? What are you-"

He pushed past her, then turned a corner toward the elevators. Her screams after him died as he descended to the lobby.

Warm air washed over him when he stepped outside. Wind rippled his clothes, tossing his hair about. Above, the sun shone amid faces of gray clouds. Ignoring cars, ignoring people, he sprinted out onto the sidewalk, searching, searching. He peered down streets and alleyways. His breaths grew ragged as he scoured the city. Finally, chest heaving and throat burning, he found the small, red, and black bundle of fur sleeping in a heap of garbage bags, tucked into the corner of a narrow alley between buildings.

He stepped up to it, panting. "You the… same one?"

It picked its head up from the trash. Dried blood seeped down from a tear on its ear, staining its fur, and one eye was swollen purple.

_Sir?_

King breathed in through his nose, eyebrows furrowing. "What happened?"

It shifted, favoring one leg as it stepped out in front of him. Somehow, even though it was a Pokemon, he could see incredible sadness and confusion in its one eye as it looked at him. His heart clenched in his chest. It was just a Pokemon, sure, but the world could be an incredibly cruel place, even to them.

_I… tried to find a trainer._

"Well," King said, holding out the Pokeball. "You've found one."

Its tail started to wag. _Really? Oh, really? Thank you, sir! Thank you! I knew you were a nice one!_

"Alright, alright." He gestured over his shoulder with a flick of his head. "Come on. Let's get you to a Pokemon center."


	8. Chapter 8

**13 Years Ago**

King bounded along the docks, his bare feet slapping against the wood. He laughed, feeling the ocean breeze ruffle his red hair. The salt-smelling wind was happy, too, because it was summer and warm, and it danced right along with him and his lillipup, who raced at his side. His mother had given him Lilly on his fourth birthday. She said she'd had Lilly for a long time, but she had never evolved. That was alright with King. She was his best friend, and he loved her all the same.

The homes along the docks seemed huge to King, blurring by him as he ran with Lilly. The people who lived in them, also giant, gave him grins as they stumbled out of his path. That was right. He didn't just dance with the wind, he was the wind, and nothing could stop him from running, except for when he felt like it.

He came to a stretch of the marina where the homes were behind him, and the ocean swelled into view, reaching to the horizon. King gasped, padding to a standstill and looking out at it. He'd lived in Humilau City all his life, but he would never stop loving this blue place his mother called an ocean.

The waves glittered under the bright sun that hung high in a sky without a single cloud, just a thick blanket of blue, like the ocean except darker. He looked down. The clear, greenish water smiled back at him, and he could see below its swishing surface and hear the tiny waves - miniature versions of the ones out in the open ocean - lapping up against the jutting pillars of wood that held up the dock. A green form whirled about in between them.

"Look, Lilly, look!" They both laid down, peering over the pier's edge. The tip of King's finger plunged into the water as he pointed at the fish. The warm liquid caressed his skin. "It's a basculin! Isn't it cool?"

She licked his face.

He chuckled, rolling over onto his back. Lilly jumped on his chest and continued to stroke his cheeks with the rough surface of her tongue.

"Hey!" He grinned, stomach pained from laughing. "Cut it out, Lilly! Cut it out!"

A shadow fell over them. Lilly stopped licking King's face and hopped off of his chest. He wiped away the slobber, calming himself before rolling over onto his stomach and looking up to see who it was that had spoiled their fun. Immediately, he looked down again.

His father had stepped in front of the sun; arms crossed over his chest. He was even bigger than the others, and to King, it seemed as though he stretched up to the sky. When he came, the wind left, and the air went still. King shifted, unconsciously rubbing Lillie's soft, golden fur.

"What are you doing, boy?" His father growled. The noise was like sudden thunder cracking through a perfectly blue sky. King was sure the docks would start to split and break every time his father spoke.

"Nothing, dad. Lilly and I were just-"

"Get off your damn stomach while you're speaking to your father!"

King staggered to his feet, not daring to look up, but instead keeping his eyes glued on the black shadow.

His father squatted down so that King could hear his voice all the clearer. "You like Pokemon, don't ya', King? You adore that dog ya' mother gave you.'"

"V-very much, dad."

"Well, how about this." He could hear the toothy grin in his father's voice. "Why don't you have a battle with your father? You can use that little pup of yours. Eh? How bout's it?"

King's eyes went wide. "Father, I can't do that, you're-"

He shuffled King over to the opposite end of the dock, pushing him with his leg. Lilly followed. She was always a good friend. "Now, you're not disobeying me, are ya'?"

He didn't say anything, but huddled into himself, wishing he could disappear. Lilly stepped up next to him and licked his hand. He looked down at her. Try your best; that look said. Try your best, and I will, too. They couldn't beat his father, but Lilly knew that and wanted to attempt it anyway. Well, King had watched many, many of his father's battles and had even practiced being a trainer with Lilly a few times. Maybe he _could_ do something.

His father stopped a ways away and turned, hands on hips. No one paid them any mind; Pokemon battles were all too familiar in Humilau City.

"Alright, boy. Let's see here. Don't you look so worried. This'll be a good lesson." He pulled a Poke ball from his waist and tossed it into the air. It thudded against the dock, then opened, and all a sudden, King stared at the bulbous form of a jellicent; sunlight reflected on its smooth blue skin. Lilly stepped up to meet him; her head raised high. She did know one electric type move, but King didn't know how effective it would be.

His father peered around jellicent, grinning. "Well, go on, boy. Attack em'!"

"Lilly, use, um, Take Down!" She listened, bounding forward, paws striking wood, until she reached jellicent. She leaped and tackled it. King's face lit up, but the excitement faded when Lilly bounced off without leaving so much as a scratch.

His father cackled. "What are you, stupid? Jellicent is a ghost type, boy! Do you think you can become a trainer if you don't even know that? Jellicent, Hydro Pump!"

King's breath snagged in his throat. He knew that move.

A ball of water began to coalesce in front of jellicent. King sprinted over to Lilly, grabbing her and hugging her into his arms. He pressed her soft fur against his cheek as he huddled down, cradling her, his back to the jellicent. _Please let Lilly be okay after this. Oh, please._

A torrent of water engulfed them. It felt like whips snapping against his skin as he was submerged. His feet slipped. His stomach lurched as Hydro Pump blasted them off the dock. For a moment, he was suspended in air, no water around him, before being dunked under again. He clutched Lilly, kicking his legs, searching for air. _Please be okay, Lilly. _

He broke the surface with a gasp. He blinked, reorienting himself to where he was: treading water at the surface of the ocean. The dock was in front of them. They'd been pushed into the water by Hydro Pump.

King looked down, salt burning his eyes. Lilly whimpered, looking up at him, and her fur was soaked all the way, but otherwise, she seemed okay. He smiled.

His father's face appeared above them. "Well, get up here, boy!" That dog can still fight, if only because ya' cheated." He left them to get back up.

"It's okay, Lilly," King whispered, lifting her onto the dock. She shook her fur to get all the water out of it as he pulled himself onto the wood. "I have an idea! Mommy told me of this cool move she taught you."

She wagged her tail, padding over to face jellicent again. King straightened, dripping water as he took his place behind Lilly. His clothes felt tight and uncomfortable, chafing under his armpits, and his skin was red where Hydro Pump had bitten him, but he did his best to ignore the feelings. If Lilly wanted to fight, then so did he, even against his father.

"Come on, then," his father said beside jellicent. "It ain't over just yet!"

"Lilly!" King shouted. "Use Attract!" Complying, she whirled, winking, and a tiny pink heart formed in front of her. It sailed toward the opposing Pokemon.

His father bellowed a laugh. "You don't learn, do ya'? Attract is a normal-type move!"

King clenched his fists as the heart drifted closer and closer to jellicent, who hovered in place as if he couldn't even see it.

Something had triggered in King's memories when he remembered that ghost-types couldn't get hit with a normal-type move. His mother had told him that, but he'd forgotten jellicent was a ghost-type. She had also said to him that that only applied to attacks that directly hit the ghost-type, like Take Down. Not moves like attract.

He beamed when the heart swirled around jellicent's head, and he fell limp, gawking at Lilly. _Mommy was right!_

His father grimaced. "What the-"

"Lilly, use Crunch!"

She leaped, clasping her jaws on jellicent's rubbery skin. It continued to stare in infatuation.

"Jellicent, you fuck! Icy Wind!"

Nothing happened. Lilly vaulted back onto the dock.

"Again, Lilly!"

"Hydro Pump!" Nothing.

"Crunch!"

"Icy Wind! Shadow Ball! Goddammit, Water Spout! Water Spout! WATER SPOUT!"

"Okay, Lilly! Wild Charge!"

Sparks zipped around her. King shielded his eyes as bright yellow electricity engulfed her. She darted forward like a lightning bolt, crashing into jellicent. He cried out as he fell backward, flippers flailing in the air. He landed on the dock with a thud.

King cheered, throwing his hands in the air. The pain from Hydro Pump vanished. "We did it, Lilly! We did it!" She sprang into his arms, panting from being so tired, but still licking his face anyway. He held her tighter than he ever had before. They danced and spun around, and the wind joined them in it, too.

Joy welled up inside him, but he froze when he looked at his father, and all that disappeared like a snuffed-out candle.

His father seemed to have grown the size of a skyscraper, up and up, looming over King and Lilly. His face was contorted and warped so much King didn't recognize him. He shied away, shaking. King thought his father would be proud of him. Now he realized he'd done something horribly wrong.

His father began to kick jellicent. "Get up, you stupid fuck! Get up! Get up! I swear to god, I am _not_ losing to some snot-nosed kid, not my own damn kid!"

Jellicent groaned a deep and echoing sound, then picked himself up to a float.

"Now! Water Spout!"

A wingull screeched in the distance. King stared up at the sky and the sun as they became obstructed by a downpour of gigantic raindrops like pointy, sharp icicles.

They smashed against the docks, plopping into the water, sending sprays of water outward in all directions. King crouched down with Lilly, screaming her name over the crashing sounds and her barking. Pain slammed against his back. His vision became blurry with tears as he was toppled onto his side, exposing Lilly. The Water Spout struck them like a flurry of blows from a hitmonchan.

The pain hammered through King's small body. He blacked out.

When he opened his eyes again, light flooding into his vision, his father loomed, strangling Lilly by the throat with one hand. A bundle of people had gathered behind him, but none of them would dare oppose his father.

"You see this, boy?" He snarled, clutching Lillies limp body harder. "Pokemon are tools. That's all they are. You can't be friends with a stupid thing like this."

He flung her into the water.

King screamed, his voice hoarse and gargled with tears. He crawled toward her, nails digging into the wood. _Please, please, please, please._

A boot cracked into the small of his back, stopping him. Spittle exuded from his mouth as he coughed, and a meaty hand grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up.

He scrunched his eyes so hard he thought they would pop out. He struggled, heart squeezing in his chest, hot tears pouring in trails down his cheeks, the walls of his throat closing. He would not look at his father. Scary. Scary. Scary.

"Listen to me, boy," his father whispered. King could feel and smell his hot breath. "Don't you ever become a trainer. You never try and follow in my footsteps. If you do, I will sink you into the ground until you never feel like gettin' up again. You will never be better than me, do you understand? Never! Don't you think for a moment that you even came close to beating me! I'm the greatest there ever was and ever will be!"

King could only sob, chest heaving.

His father tsked and dropped him to the wood. Dull pain erupted in his side as he landed, but still, he could hardly feel it when compared to the roaring fire of hurt pulsing throughout his body. As his father stomped off, pushing through the crowd, King pulled his knees to his chest, shaking and shaking and shaking.

He did not go after Lilly. If he did, his father would be there and would break him and snap him and beat him until there was nothing left to beat.


	9. Chapter 9

The roar of a thousand people erupted all around N. Never before had he seen so many accumulated in one place as he had here, seated on the bleachers of Vertress Stadium. A great hum of conversation, of laughter and chatter, droned around them, sounding like a hundred stampeding bouffalant. Colors were everywhere, and the smells of buttery popcorn and other food items mixed in with the crowds. He searched for the sun-bleached hair that would mark Luna, but with so many, he knew he would never be able to pick her out. He had not seen her since arriving in Vertress City.

A hand gripped his shoulder. N blinked and turned to find his father ushering him toward their seats. He complied, and together they settled themselves down, shoulder to shoulder with others. His father wouldn't like being so close to so many, but with the excitement built over the weeks, these were virtually the only spots left.

Ghetsis grimaced, as N though he might. "The sight of so many people turns my stomach. Wouldn't you agree, my son?"

N opened his mouth, hesitating. He had initially viewed the great multitude of people with amazement, but Ghetsis was right: they were all here only to entertain themselves by watching Pokemon get hurt and injured. That did permeate his mouth with a sour taste.

"Yes, father."

"Some who are here have no doubt heard our speech," Ghetsis said, leaning close so that N could distinguish his voice among all the rest. "They will see these battles, and the questions we've planted in their heads will stir like slumbering beasts. Today, we will not take any action. We will simply watch but in the coming days… that is when we will strike, my son."

N nodded. His father's judgment was sound, as always. "I see, father, I-"

N cut himself off when a man, wearing a light-blue suit, strode out into the arena below. The floor was sand, and the bleachers ringed around it on every side. N and Ghetsis were reasonably high up, so much so that N felt as though he could touch the clear blue sky, but they could still see well. He would watch the battles, not for enjoyment, but so that he could ingrain the memory in his brain, and never forget how terrible it had been. These fights between Pokemon would be the fuel that propelled his speeches.

The man below raised a microphone to his lips. Those in the stadium noticed him, as well, and the noise dampened down to a gentle murmur.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" He greeted, gesturing with one arm. "The Unova government greets you! Welcome to the Vertress Beginner's Tournament!"

A roar of stomps and cheers erupted from the crowd. Ghetsis tsked, scowling.

The announcer continued. "Allow me to explain the rules, onlookers! Three hundred and forty-four entered the preliminary match of the tournament. After many trials and tribulations, only sixteen have made it to the main-event to battle before you here today! Each participant will square off, that's right, square-off, in a one-on-one bout, and each will be able to use a maximum of three Pokemon. This will continue over four days until there's only one winner, who will receive a special cash prize of one million Pokedollars!"

Another wave of cheers sounded. As the announcer called the first competitors forward, N put his elbows on his knees, watching intently. His heart weighed heavy with sorrow that so many found joy in this sort of thing.

…

_Oh! I'm excited! Are you excited, sir? I'm so excited!_

King crossed his arms, leaning back against the steel wall behind him. He looked to his right, where the arena stretched out under the sunlight, and all the hundreds and hundreds of people waited. The announcer was out there - a thin man shaped like a stick - calling King's name and the name of his opponent. _So I'm up against that Steven guy, huh?_ The people in the stand were a blur of colors from this distance.

_Hey, hey! Are you excited?_

King looked down. Zorua stared up at him, swishing its tail back and forth. After he'd brought it to a Pokemon center, everything else had healed fine enough for battle, except for that tear in its ear. The nurse had said that it was a permanent scar. King squatted down, coming level with it, and wondered how it could still trust humans after what had happened.

He cleared his throat. "Alright, listen," he said. It sat on its hind legs, nodding. "Remember the plan? Steven uses a psychic type, so we have a good first match-up."

_I got it, sir!_

King stood. "Alright, then. Good." He pointed the Pokeball at Zorua, and it dissolved into a streak of light, then got pulled into the device through the center-button. He held the ball at his side, swallowing hard, taking deep breaths. His heart thrummed in his chest, but he maintained a neutral expression on the outside. Everything was at stake here. This tournament was where he got to see if he had what it takes to become a trainer, or if his father had been right, and he was good for nothing. If he lost, that was it. He would toss zorua into the wild and live the rest of his life scrounging on the streets of Castelia. Some of the other trainers, he'd learned from listening to their conversations, participated in the tournament because it was fun or they wanted fame and fortune - petty goals like that. King had trained the zorua to the point of exhaustion on the way to Vertress and even did training of his own, watching professional battle after professional battle. For him, it was all or nothing.

"… and his challenger, all the way from Castelia City, King Parkman!"

King threw his Pokeball in the air, snatched it, and stepped out into the light. Waves of blaring cheers like an earthquake followed his footsteps. _The government really did a number in hyping this thing up. Not that that's a good thing. Spotlight isn't my thing._

He came to the middle of the arena and stopped in front of his opponent, Steven, who looked to be about nine feet tall with his face covered in long, blond hair. The announcer moved over to their right.

"Would the challengers please release their Pokemon!"

King tossed the Pokeball into the sand. It landed, and zorua appeared as a meinfoo. He could see its face straining as it remembered the plan, using Nasty Plot, which was ultimately just thinking evil thoughts.

Steven chucked an Ultra ball, and out came the gothita he'd used in the preliminary. It was a powerful Pokemon.

The announcer nodded. King could feel the anticipation bubbling through the crowd, mimicking his own feelings, but he kept a neutral expression.

"Now! Let the battle begin!"

King shoved his hands in his pockets, gripping the fabric inside. Steven placed one foot behind the other, smirking at him. The sun glared above, radiating heat down on them. The crowd bellowed.

"Meinfoo, huh?" Steven boasted. "Looks like I'm at an advantage here."

King waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah, alright. Boasting isn't going to get me to make a hasty move, Steven, buddy, so you can just forget that tactic. You're better off focusing on using actual strategies, I'd say."

He grimaced. "Alright, then. I'll start with a bang! Gothita, Psyshock!"

The wind gusted at King, tossing up the sand around him. Gothita vaulted into the air, throwing its arms out in front of itself. Blue and purple energy coalesced into a ball at its palms, like a mass of syrup. Zorua - meinfoo - looked back at King. He nodded.

Zorua rushed forward. Gothita scrunched its face, then released the ball of energy, falling back to the ground. The Psyshock slammed into zorua, kicking up a cloud of sand and obscuring it from view.

"An early Psyshock from Steven!" The announcer cheered. "Is that it already?"

King paused, meeting Steven's eyes. The man was assured, alright. Too bad that confidence was misplaced.

He sniffed. "Dark Pulse!"

Steven's eyebrows furrowed. From the cloud of dust, Zorua leaped in the air in its true form, trailing streams of sand off its black and red fur. A sphere of dark, swirling purple energy formed at its mouth. It expelled it in one blast.

King watched as the move collided with gothita, throwing it back.

The stadium exploded into whoops and cheers.

"I don't believe it!" The announcer called. "King's meinfoo is a zorua! What a twist!"

"Gothita!" Steven grabbed the limp body of his Pokemon, clutching it his arms. It didn't move.

"It… it looks like gothita is unable to battle! That makes King the winner!"

He released a long, heavy breath and took his hands out of his pockets.

He bent down and grabbed the Pokeball, returning zorua inside it. Nodding to the announcer, he turned on his heel, leaving the sounds of the stadium behind as he ducked back into the hallway before the arena entrance. Alone, he sunk onto the floor with his back at the wall, chest heaving. He'd done it. He'd won his first battle as a Pokemon trainer.

He wondered if his father was somewhere in that crowd, watching, judging. No. He was probably off abusing one Pokemon or the other.

And, besides, King didn't have a father, anyway.


	10. Chapter 10

N wandered from the arena with his head down. People jostled him shoulder to shoulder, cloth rubbing against cloth, skin against skin. A spray of sweat coated his forehead. It was challenging to walk, with so many people moving in a current like a horde of basculin. The first day of the tournament had ended, and as such, everyone withdrew at the same time.

The tournament. While others had cheered and whooped, N had studied the battles with a heavy heart, grimacing each time a Pokemon was hurt, each time the onlookers screamed for it to happen again. How could they do that? How come they couldn't see how terrible it was, or envision, even care, how the Pokemon might be feeling?

Maybe his father, in the end, was right. Perhaps humans were evil creatures, a plague on the earth.

He clenched a fist. Even if they were, N would change all of their minds. He would give Pokemon their freedom, no matter what it might take. That was the least they deserved.

The sun glared overhead. N shielded his eyes as the people and noise around him began to scatter, and he realized with a start that he had already exited the arena. He spun around. People passed him in groups, talking excitedly.

Where was his father?

He searched the many faces, watching for green hair, waiting for a robe or a burned, charred hand. Panic welled inside of him, an invisible hand clenching his throat. A sour taste permeated his mouth. Ghetsis had been next to him moments ago. Where had his father gone? What had happened to him?

N had been without his father for a short time in Accumula Town, but even then, he knew his father was safe. As a child, if his father was not around, N still knew he was safe because his siblings had assured him so. Ghetsis did not like people. What if he had become embroiled in a fight with someone? No. His father was not like that. He was calm, kind, and helpful. Loving, and-

Someone tapped his shoulder from behind. He broke into a relieved smile, and turned, only to find that it was not Ghetsis, but Luna. His smile stayed. The hand around his throat released its grasp. She was not Ghetsis, no, but she was still a familiar and comforting face.

"Hi, N!" She greeted, returning his smile. She wore a wide-brimmed hat that shielded the attractive features of her face from the sun.

"Ah, Luna! I'm so glad to see you. May I ask if you've seen my father? I can't find him anywhere."

She cocked her head. "He got lost?"

N nodded, still scrutinizing for any sign of him. "Well, more likely that I got lost from him. I'm sure he's searching for me, but yes."

Her face lit up. "Follow me." She wrapped her hand in his. "I think I saw him this way!"

Her excitement was contagious. "Excellent! Thank you, Luna!"

She pulled him through the crowds, holding her hat to her head with the opposite hand so that it did not fall off while they ran. The number of people thinned as they progressed further from the arenas, eventually arriving at the outskirts of the city, where lines of trees stood sentinel over the fields and plant-life beyond. N was panting even before they reached this point - he was not used to so much physical activity - his chest heaving and his heart pounding, but he grinned nonetheless. She knew where his father was.

Luna ducked into the trees, tugging N into the forest after her. The sun glittered past a canopy of leaves. Calls of Pokemon, the crunching of sticks, and the ruffling of bushes replaced the city sounds. N marveled at the juxtaposition between the forest and the city, and how such vibrant life could thrive next to such boisterous human activity.

Eventually, however, as they continued, N's mood became more agitated. Had she seen Ghetsis out in the forest? Surely she wouldn't lie to him. _Humans are evil, N. They will try to take advantage of you. Do not extend your trust farther than your father, my son._

N stumbled. The trees suddenly looked as foreboding pillars, their creaks as cries into the wind. The bushes became tangled knots of wire, pulling at him, attempting to twist around his ankles. The wind howled. In the distance, Pokemon screamed. Where was Luna taking him?

Ghetsis. His father was right. He had been right all along. Luna was going to-

They broke into a clearing. Luna let him go, and he fell to his knees, breathing ragged breaths. It wasn't only because of the run that he could not control his breathing, but also because he found himself in awe at the beautiful nature surrounding him.

A field of yellow flowers spread out below them, from where they stood together atop a green hill. In the wind, the flowers swayed like dancers, petals kicked into the air, and pollen stirred. A sweet scent filled the clearing. Cottonees and whimsicotts spun about, carried by the wind, summer deerling hopped amid the flowers, enticed by the smells, and even lilligant poked out of the fields. It was a gorgeous sight to behold.

Luna skipped in front of him, hands intertwined behind her back. She looked delighted. "So? What do you think?"

N pushed himself to a stand. How could he have ever thought that Luna was attempting to bring him harm? All she had wanted to do was show him _this_.

"It's beautiful, Luna!"

"I knew you'd like it. I've been coming here recently to paint."

"You like to paint?" He asked her, prying his eyes away from the Pokemon. Places such as this were where they were best, where they were happiest.

She nodded. "Yes. I love to."

"Would you show me your work sometime?"

"Of course," she said, sitting down on the slope of the hill. She patted the space beside her. "Come on. Come sit."

He did so, smiling. The wind whipped his hair about. When Luna pulled off her hat, it did the same to her golden locks.

"So. I'm sorry," she said. "Your fathers not anywhere dancing among those flowers. I lied."

N frowned. He'd almost forgotten that was where she was supposed to be bringing him: to Ghetsis. Strangely, however, he couldn't bring himself to be angry with her.

"It's okay," he said, looking back at the flowers. "I'm sure he is fine… though he might be angry with me for losing him in the first place. I… and, please, don't blame yourself, Luna, but I do not like to make him angry."

She laid a hand on his arm. He turned to look at her, and her face was etched with sympathy. "I am sorry, though, but it looked like you could use some time away from your father."

"What do you mean?"

"It just seems like he's overbearing, and doesn't let you do what you want."

N hesitated, then shook his head. He pulled his knees up and laid his arms atop them. "No. He is simply trying to protect me. As a child, I was always venturing off toward one place or the other. He is only trying to keep me safe."

She nodded, then stood. N followed her lead.

"Right. Well, I just wanted to show you this." She smiled. "Let's go find your dad."

She led him by the hand through the forest, backtracking from where they had come. She seemed to know where she was going, and soon the field of flowers disappeared from view, blocked by the many stout tree-trunks and plentiful leaves.

When they finally arrived back in Vertress City, hair jumbled and full of tiny sticks, Ghetsis was waiting for them. The people had since dispersed, and the sun hung low in the sky, painting the horizon a spray of oranges and reds.

Ghetsis stomped over to them; his face shadowed and creased with anger. He had tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe, but N could see the ripple in the cloth where he gripped it tightly.

N pulled his hand from Luna's grasp, bowing his head. He kept his eyes plastered to the ground. Immediately, he wanted to be anywhere, but there. He wished to hide, to run, and watching the flowers and the dancing Pokemon suddenly felt like the immature activities of a child.

"What is the meaning of this?" Ghetsis boomed. N flinched, sparing a momentary glance at Luna. She challenged his father with determined eyes. _No, Luna. Please. Please let the matter go._

"I took N somewhere in the forest," Luna said. N grimaced. "I thought he needed a little bit of freedom."

"You…!" Ghetsis sputtered.

"Yup, that's right. N was trying to find you, but I forced him to come with me. It was my idea."

A hand flung out and girdled around N's arm. His father yanked him forward, towing him away from Luna as if she were a diseased raticate.

"Do not interfere in the affairs of our family!" Ghetsis shouted back at her. "We do not want to be associated with lawless god-for-nothings!"

N stumbled after his father. A heavy lump sat in his throat. He did not look back at Luna.

He did not want her to see his shame.


	11. Chapter 11

King turned away from the arena, tossing his Pokeball up and catching repeatedly. The sounds of cheering faded behind him with each echo of his footfalls in the long metal hallway. He grinned to himself; he'd won another battle and was now one of the four that had progressed into the semi-finals. He was doing it. He really was doing it. He'd started to question why he had ever doubted himself. All the others barely so much as strategized: they threw their Pokemon out and hoped for the best.

He buckled the Pokeball at his waist, next to several empty ones - he'd had enough in his bank account for their small price - and moved from the arena hallway into one of the waiting rooms. A few of the participants who'd lost still lingered, some even going as far as to shed tears. King shook his head, passing one of the tables where they were allowed to sit while idling before a match. Crying wasn't going to get them anywhere. If had they relied on their logic, instead, or controlled their emotions a little more; then they might have made it farther than the second round. All they could do now was learn from their errors, but King doubted they would. Most people hated to admit when they'd made a mistake.

Before he could leave the room, a girl stepped in front of him; arms crossed below her chest. She was tall, only a few inches shorter than he was, but she raised her nose at him like she was ten feet tall and ten times better than him. She had raven-black hair let loose around a pretty face, and such a strong scent of fruity perfume radiating off her that he figured she wore the equal of what Terrance had in cologne. He blinked. He had watched both of her battles, and based on those; she had a right to be confident: she was one of the only other ones who used strategy.

He wrinkled his nose. "Uh, Vanessa, right? You need something from me?"

"No, not particularly," she grunted. "I wanted to meet the man I'll be facing in the final round. You're not much up close, however."

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Ah, I don't know what you were expecting: most of the greatness is up here." He tapped his temple. "At least you've noticed that none of these other people know what's going on."

She matched his smile. "Yes, indeed. Let me give you a small tip. The brains behind our tournament here have decided the final match will be a double battle. They're going to announce that after the semi-finals, but I'm letting you know early."

"Yeah? What's the motivation for you to do that?"

She shrugged. "I merely want the final match before I win to be _exciting_. You will need to catch another Pokemon besides that zorua, and have the time to train them." She started to walk away even before she'd finished speaking.

King followed her with his eyes as she stepped into another group's conversation. Even if she was lying, he could still benefit from an extra Pokemon. The forests outside Vertress had plenty to choose from, or so he'd heard.

He walked from the waiting room, out into the arena hallways, then into the blazing midday sun. He rolled up his sleeves and ran a hand through his red hair, scanning his surroundings. Groups of people walked this way and that, the sounds of their chatter filling the air. The smells of food coming from various stalls and stores hung in the area. In the distance, a line of trees surrounded the city. He headed in that direction, hands in pockets.

Vanessa used a whimsicott and a venipede: both of which she'd revealed in previous matches. A flying-type or a fire-type would be super-effective against both, but there wasn't any guarantee that she didn't have other Pokemon that could counter either typing. Vanessa was right; the two of them were going to battle, provided they didn't in the semi-finals. She had seemed so assured that they wouldn't, though. Either way, they were the two that relied on logic instead of luck or even pure-strength. That was enough to guarantee their spots in the finals. Still, while a flying-type would be extremely useful against her known Pokemon, they were both also super-effective against zorua. That would be a tough challenge to overcome.

He stepped to the edge of the tree line. The wind sighed through the leaves. Yes, because of Vanessa, winning the tournament would be difficult, but he would win. He had to win. No matter what.

He pushed past branches and through curled-up bushes, striding into the forest. Sunlight trickled past the canopy, splaying down onto the tangled underbrush. As he progressed further inward, he tuned his ears to the calls of Pokemon, listening for which was which. He heard mostly grass-types like pansage and the occasional sound of something like venipede. A few times, he detected the high-pitched, squealing alarm of a pidove, or a squawk from a ducklett, probably coming from a nearby lake secluded inside the trees. Neither was what he wanted: pidove wasn't strong enough - it was, at best, mediocre, even when evolved to a unfezant - and ducklett a water-type. He needed something better if he'd stand a chance against Vanessa.

Then he heard it: the call of a rufflet.

Right before it dived for his head.

He stumbled backward, cursing. His back hit a nearby tree. The rufflet flapped its wings as if challenging him, all while squawking its head off. _Looks like the answer to my prayers comes in the form of this feathered killer._

It lunged for him. He rolled out of the way, groping at his waist. Dirt stuck to the fabric of his clothing, smearing over his knees and arms. He snatched the right-most Pokeball: zorua's, and chucked it in the air.

It appeared in a flash of light, hopping onto the ground. The rufflet's attention immediately went to it, and zorua's face lit up like a kid who received a big basket of candy.

_Ooh, a fight! Wow! What is it? Looks tough to me, sir!_

"No time," King called. "Dark Pulse!"

_You got it!_

Zorua flipped backward into the air, facing rufflet. He built a Dark Pulse and let it loose in a stream of swirling energy the color of an inky black night sky.

Rufflet dodged. Streams of white light began to whip and spin around it as it flapped its wings harder. _Shit. Aerial Ace. No way zoruas going to be able to dodge that._

His Pokemon landed, eyes wide. The rufflet became a blur of speed, crashing into zorua, flinging it into the trunk of a tree. It hit with a crack and a nipped howl, then fell into a pile of leaves.

"Zorua," King said. "Come on. Get up."

_Right, sir. I can fight, _It said, wobbling to its feet._ Don't worry. I'm good enough. I can fight!_

Rufflet's wings began to glow. It was preparing another move: Wing Attack.

"Then prove it!" King said. Rufflet dove toward zorua, who gritted its teeth and planted its feet. "Foul Play!"

It vaulted over one of the rufflet's wings. It grabbed the bird's neck-fur in between bared teeth, then whipped its head, spinning. Leaves flew, whirling into the air as zorua slammed rufflet against the ground. It didn't move.

King smiled in satisfaction as zorua landed. He unhooked one of the empty Pokeballs and cast it at the rufflet, watching as the device pulled it in and snapped shut.

It shook once. Zorua balked at him.

_Wait, sir! You're catching it? You didn't tell me that!_

King crossed his arms at it. "You didn't think you were going to be my only Pokemon, did you?"

It bounded over to the Pokeball after its third shake, baring its teeth at the red and white ball. _No! Don't work! Come on; you can do it! Escape! Come on, bird!_

King raised an eyebrow. The Pokeball clicked, and zorua's ears slumped in disappointment. King walked over, bent down, and grabbed the Pokeball in one hand.

"What's wrong with having another Pokemon?" He asked, tossing the Pokeball and catching it.

Zorua turned away from him. _Nothing!_

He shrugged. "At any rate, let's meet him." He dropped the Pokeball next to zorua, and rufflet appeared, head cocked. Zorua stalked up to it.

_Hey, you listen! I was our sir's first Pokemon, so that means that he likes me better! Capeesh?_

Rufflet narrowed its eyes.

_Mhm. That is right! You just-_

Rufflet pecked zorua in the forehead. King sighed as the fighting between them progressed into a brawl. He didn't particularly care what relationship his Pokemon had with one another - they were animals, not humans - but it would be hard to get any training done with zorua continually picking a fight. He returned it to its Pokeball, and rufflet blinked, then turned to him.

"Come on," King said. "Let's see what other moves you've got in your arsenal. There are plenty of pansage around for you to practice on."


	12. Chapter 12

N wanted to hide, disappear forever, never to show his face again. He was so ashamed of himself. After everything Ghetsis had done for him, raising him into adulthood, he repaid his father by running away into the forest, leaving him worried and fretful. And what for? Luna was excellent company, but if it meant facing Ghetsis' disappointment, then the times he spent with her were not worth it. They weren't.

He wished his thoughts did not sound like he was trying to convince himself.

N slunk behind Ghetsis as they strolled together through the bustling city roads. They had finished another speech, and a small but curious crowd had gathered around them when they had done so. People were starting to recognize them, and more importantly, listen when they spoke. But, while it did make him feel extremely happy that they were making progress, his father had become more protective over him than he ever had been before. When N had wanted to explore the rest of the city, Ghetsis had agreed, but only if he went with him. Even though his father was only looking out for N's well-being, he couldn't help but think that he might never experience anything like the time in Accumula Town again. Where he had met Luna.

Ghetsis turned a corner. N followed. His father scowled when a child danced by them, waving a pink balloon and giggling, but they soon resumed their walk. N tried to focus on the great sights to see, as was his original intention. The buildings, the people, and the blossoming trees that lined the paved streets. As they walked, however, his thoughts continued to slip into thinking of Luna. He speculated on which hotel she might have been staying in, or whether she, too, like all the others, enjoyed watching Pokemon injure themselves in the name of entertainment. She didn't seem like that kind of person, but why else would she have come? Most of all, he wondered if he would ever see her again, or, if, because of how he treated her before they departed, she didn't want to be around him anymore.

The thought made his chest feel heavy, like a cumbersome weight settling atop it.

His father's voice pulled him from his reflection. The city sounds flooded in afterward as a hum of background noise.

"About this… Luna business," he said, casting a sideways look at N. The lines creasing his face told him that his father still wasn't happy. "I-"

"I'm sorry, father!" N blurted out. "I meant to apologize, and it was wrong of me not to, and also to leave you behind such as I did. I am sorry, father."

"Do not interrupt me, my son. You should know this by now."

N's breath caught in his throat, shoulders slumping. "Yes, father."

"As I was saying," Ghetsis continued, scanning the city around him with eyes like a braviary's. "An instance like that shows me, while you are the herald that will free the Pokemon, as a person, you are still vastly immature. It is, therefore, my duty to continue to guard you and watch over you so that you don't come to harm from people like this Luna character. The world is an evil place, my son. You would do well never to forget that."

N nodded hurriedly. "Of course, father. You are right."

They continued. N worked to banish the thoughts of Luna from his mind, but each time he did so, an image of her pretty features crept back into his thoughts like a slow plague. He shook his head, trying to clear it. He didn't want to think of her. He did not _want_ to. She was as evil as the rest of them. Her smiling face and cheery attitude were a facade. That was all they were.

A flicker of movement near the tree-line caught his eye, followed by the sound of snapping twigs. He turned, and so did Ghetsis, peering past buildings. N expected to see a startled Pokemon run out, accidentally stumbling into the city while fleeing from a predator, but, instead, a man with wispy red-hair was the one to step out. Dirt stained his formal attire, and Pokeballs hung at his waist. He brushed bits of soil and tiny leaves from his shoulders, placed his hands in his pockets, and walked forward with a confident stride.

N immediately recognized him as one of the participants in the tournament. He released the pressure in his jaw, realizing that he had been grinding his teeth.

"Father," N said, keeping his eyes on the trainer. The man was too absorbed in thought to notice N and his father. "May I go speak to this man? He is a trainer participating in the tournament, as I'm sure you've noticed, but I wish to see if I can change his mind about battling with Pokemon. Convincing a trainer would be a great step for me, father."

Ghetsis hesitated, then nodded. "Very well, my son. I will be watching."

N grinned. "Thank you, father." He left Ghetsis at the street corner, but he could feel his father's eyes on his back. N would show him what he was capable of, that he could be the son his father wanted and not someone who traipsed off to look at flowers.

N stepped in front of the man: King, he remembered his name was. He waited until they were close to one another, then opened his mouth to speak, expecting King to stop. He did not. The red-haired man walked around him as if he were no more than a telephone pole at the sidewalk.

N started, his cheeks staining a deep red. He circled King, stepping in front of him once more and clearing his throat.

"Hello," he greeted. This time, the trainer did stop and yawned as he looked at N, talking through a clenched fist. "Did you want to talk to me? I was wondering why you were standing there like a tree or something."

N pursed his lips. "Yes, I did want to speak with you."

"Alright. Well, listen, make it quick," King pinched one section of his clothes. "I need to get this washed."

"I was… wondering," N began, glancing over his shoulder, toward where Ghetsis stood watching. He shifted, standing straighter, and addressed King with more confidence. "You are a trainer. I have seen you participating in the tournament. But how can you? How can you willingly subject beautiful Pokemon like your zorua to torture? I try to understand, but I find myself unable to. Don't you see the pain that you are causing them?"

King scrunched his eyebrows, smirking. "What?"

"I am serious!" N exclaimed. "How can you not see?"

King chuckled, and then did so again, then again, louder each time until he doubled over, clutching his abdomen as his shoulders shook with laughter. The sound rang in N's ears. He clenched his fists, feeling his face burn hotter, even as King wiped his eyes, and his laughter quieted.

"Oh, man," he said, one last chuckle escaping him. "That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard in my entire life, and I've met some pretty dumb people. You are serious, aren't you? Wow. I didn't think I'd be hearing that one today, that's for sure."

N glared at him.

"Listen," King said, shaking his head. "Pokemon are tools, not humans, so we don't treat them the same way. They're a means to an end."

N balked. He could not believe what he was hearing. There were people that thought this way. They considered Pokemon nothing more than playthings to be tortured and abused. Bile rose in his throat, and his stomach churned as if he'd eaten a bad meal. Sharp, red pain pulsed through his hand, where his fingernails dug into his palm.

"Someone like you will never win the tournament!" N shouted. "Pokemon are our friends, not… not tools!"

King shrugged. "Yeah, alright. You can think whatever helps you sleep at night; it doesn't make a difference to me. And, seriously, calm down. You're getting all worked up over some philosophy. Stop trying to force it on others, then, if you're going to act like that when people don't agree with you."

N opened his mouth, struggling for the rights words to say, but all that escaped was empty air. He stomped away, desperately trying to save himself from further embarrassment.

Lately, shame followed him wherever he went, like a stray lillipup nipping at his heels. Why did nothing work? What was he doing wrong? All he knew for certain was that King would _not_ win the tournament. Not someone like that. Not someone who believed what he did.

It was with slumped shoulders that he came back to Ghetsis. He didn't look up at his father, but he knew; he could feel the disappointment radiating off him in waves.

They walked back to their hotel in silence._ I must be better. I must be._


	13. Chapter 13

It was time. The final match was here.

King stood before the arena, waiting for the announcer to call his name as he had in all the other matches leading up to this final one. He breathed, smelling the sweat that slithered down his forehead, then exhaled through his mouth, trying to stop his heart from slamming against his chest. King would not let his nerves distract him. He would not let his emotions control him. He needed to stay calm if he was going to win.

The semi-finals had finished. King's final opponent, as she had guessed three days before, was Vanessa. She'd won her previous match without her Pokemon getting so much as even a little scratch. King would've liked to figure that her opponent had been garbage, and that was why she'd won so quickly, but he knew it was because of her skill, and nothing else.

The plan he'd come up with was to send both zorua and rufflet out as, well, rufflets, and Vanessa wouldn't know which was the zorua. She couldn't even know that he _had_ a rufflet: King hadn't used it in the semi-finals match. The two of them would rush in as soon as the battle began. Hopefully, Vanessa wouldn't know which to attack. If zorua did get stuck in a position where it couldn't dodge, rufflet could always step in and take the hit. If it was a bug or grass-type move, it would barely get damaged.

He licked sweat off his upper-lip, tasting salt. The announcer called his name. He stepped out into the arena, kicking up sand and dust with each step.

The crowd screamed, chanting his name as he stopped a small ways away from the center of the stadium. He could practically feel the way the people stirred with excitement. Somewhere amid all of them was the person that proclaimed King could never win the tournament because he didn't love Pokemon enough. But this wasn't some TV show, planned and scripted by writers. This was real-life, where the mind ruled, not ideals.

"And his challenger," the announcer called. "She's dominated all of her previous matches: Vanessa Rose!"

She strode out of the opposite entrance, taking the cheers and whoops in stride. Once in front of King, she halted, hands-on-hips, smirking at him.

He returned the look. He pushed down the fluttering in his heart. This was it: where it all began, or where it all ended.

"King," Vanessa greeted. "We finally meet in the arena. I'll be using every tactic I know. No hard feelings, of course, but that money is already mine."

King grunted. "Don't get too cocky now. I'm not a pushover like all the others."

"Indeed, but it makes so difference. I've already won."

"We'll see. I'm doing this for more than just some pieces of paper."

She raised one of her angular eyebrows, but before she could comment, the announcer's voice rang through the microphone in his hand.

"Now! As we previously announced, this will be a double battle! If the participants would please release their Pokemon!"

King unstrapped his two Pokeballs. Vanessa did the same, tossing them onto the ground. Two spheres of light formed into venipede, on her right, and whimsicott to her left. Good. She was using both the same Pokemon she had in previous matches. That gave King an early advantage.

He released his Pokeballs. Both rufflets came out, zorua on his left, and the real one on his right. Zorua looked back at him and nodded, while rufflet glared daggers at both Vanessa's Pokemon. At least the bird was ready for a challenge.

Dust swirled. The onlookers went silent, and a tense, almost palpable feeling hung heavy in the air.

"With further ado! Let the final match of the Beginners Vertress Tournament… begin! The first to faint all of their opponents Pokemon will win!"

King rested his hands in his pockets, clearing his mind of any other thought other than winning. He didn't think of his father: how he might be watching, judging. How, if he lost, that man would no doubt come and find him and laugh in his face, screaming and swearing that he had told him so, that he'd been right all along.

"Alright," King shouted, pointing. "Rufflet, run for-"

"Whimsicott, Dazzling Gleam!"

King froze. Dazzling Gleam? He had studied all four moves whimsicott knew. Dazzling Gleam wasn't supposed to be one of them. But she would hit her venipede, too.

Whimsicott started to glow, auras around its body shimmering with rainbow light. _Shit! Venipede is a poison-type! It doesn't matter if it gets hit._

His plan was collapsing already.

"Rufflet," King said, keeping his voice level. "Protect zorua."

The bird looked back at him, then to zorua. It narrowed its eyes and didn't make a single move.

King tsked, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the glowing light. If he didn't act, they'd both get hit by spheres of fairy energy. "Rufflet, Aerial Ace on whimsicott!"

It bolted forward, white streamers of light stirring the air around it. Whimsicott flashed brighter. Vanessa smiled.

"You have revealed who is the real rufflet, King. Venipede, Venoshock on rufflet!"

"Rufflet, dodge! Zorua-"

Whimsicott released the light. King pulled back, shutting his eyes and throwing an arm over them. The crowd roared. When the light dissipated, King blinked, looking around hurriedly. Zorua, back in its original form, struggled to a stand, legs shaky and teeth gritted. Rufflet flew in the air, reeling from the attack. Before King could react, venipede, who was barely affected by Dazzling Gleam, released a spray of poison toward rufflet.

"Whimsicott, Cotton Spore," Vanessa called.

King growled. "Tail Wind!"

Rufflet dodged the sprays of poison, then flapped its wings, creating gales that whirled around Vanessa's Pokemon. The wind slapped the rest of the poison back, left to coat the ground, and whimsicotts spores were blown to the opposite end of the arena, failing in their use. Sand spun.

King breathed, chest heaving already. Sweat stained his face. As rufflet's gales subsided, King wiped some of it away with the back of his arm.

Rufflet returned beside zorua, who had regained its composure and looked about ready to pounce.

"A heart-pounding beginning!" The announcer cried. "It looks like our competitors are squaring off for round two, but King has come out much worse for wear than Vanessa!"

_I need another plan. Now. She completely foiled my first one._

"You see, King," Vanessa said. "I will win."

_Plan. I need a plan. Something that can capitalize on both zorua's illusion ability and rufflet's keen eye._

He watched the last stream of sand from rufflet's Tail Wind fall back to the ground. _Got it._

Vanessa smirked at him another time. He smiled back.

And again, they started to battle.

"Whimsicott, Razor Leaf!"

"Tail Wind!"

Rufflet took to the air, using Tail Wind. Leaves scattered around the battlefield.

"Aerial Ace on whimsicott!"

Rufflet plunged forward. Venipede skittered in front of whimsicott.

"Venipede, Protect."

A shimmering wall appeared in front of the two Pokemon. Rufflet attempted to slow to a stop, but was too late, and slammed beak-first into the wall. It flapped backward, squawking.

The barrier disappeared. "Venipede, Venoshock on zorua."

"Zorua, dodge, and use Extrasensory! Rufflet, Wing Attack on whimsicott!"

"Cotton Spore."

The battlefield exploded into motion. A spray of poison launched toward zorua, who sprinted forward, weaving through the splotches. Rufflet dove for whimsicott, wings glowing. Zorua leaped, spinning, releasing a beam of multi-colored energy at venipede.

"Venipede, Protect!"

The beam deflected into the sand. Zorua landed on the ground, careful not to step in poison, and whimsicott bounced away from rufflet, whose wings snagged at the balls of cotton hanging in the air. It fell to the ground.

King clenched his fists. His lips were dry, his tongue like sandpaper.

Both of her Pokemon turned to zorua, who stood in between them. Rufflet furiously plucked the cotton out of its wings with its beak.

Vanessa sniffed. "Whimsicott, Moonblast on zorua! Venipede, Bug Bite!"

A ball of light coalesced in front of whimsicott. Venipede skittered forward.

"Rufflet, fly next to zorua, and use Tail Wind into the sand!"

Venipede neared. Rufflet spiraled forward, wings clear of cotton, and hovered next to zorua. Dust kicked up everywhere when it used Tail Wind, stirring up a cloud that obscured all the Pokemon. It was time to use his plan.

"The battlefield had fallen under a cloud of sand!" The announcer cheered. "What will happen now?"

"Zorua, transform into whimsicott!" King yelled. "Rufflet! Lift whimsicott into the air!"

The cloud of dust stilled. A blink later and rufflet spun outward, trailing sand off its wings. It held whimsicott in its talons.

"That's obviously zorua!" He heard Vanessa call.

"Zorua, Extrasensory!"

The whimsicott above didn't move. Vanessa balked, then stuttered out an order. "Whimsicott, Dazzling Gleam!"

_Come on, zorua. You can hit the venipede._ King couldn't see anything from within the cloud. Vanessa was too focused on rufflet to remember to call Protect, but zorua would have to guess where venipede stood based on where it'd been before. _Come on!_

Above, whimsicott began to glow again. "Rufflet, drop whimsicott, and use Aerial Ace when it's in the air!"

Whimsicott toppled downward. Inside the dust glowed. Rufflet spun back around, preparing an Aerial Ace. It flew, closer and closer. Dazzling Gleam was almost finished.

King swallowed hard, eyes wide. _Come on, come on, come on._

Whimsicott released its move. Rufflet dove for it. The crowd sat with bated breaths, watching, waiting.

King shifted. The next moment, venipede flew out from the cloud of stirred sand, skidding along the ground. Vanessa whipped her head to look at it, gasping.

Whimsicott crashed to the floor. Rufflet hovered above it, flinched, and then topped as well, its wings failing it. Dazzling Gleam had hit.

"I don't believe it!" The announcer said. "All three Pokemon are down!"

When the dust and sand settled, zorua still stood, breathing heavily, eyes squeezed shut. It had remembered where venipede was and hit it. More importantly, it was still standing.

The crowd yelled so loud it sounded like rumbling thunder. King fell to his knees, turning his head to the sky.

_I won._

Zorua bounded to him, running around in circles, hopping up and down with overjoyed excitement.

_We did it, sir! We did it!_ It ran onto his lap and started licking his face. A memory of a lillipup, doing the same thing as he lay laughing, flashed into his mind. He patted zorua and pushed the memory away. It wasn't the time to think about that.

King pushed himself to a stand, placing zorua by his heels.

"Both Vanessa's Pokemon are unable to battle! That means-"

"It means nothing!" Vanessa growled, interrupting the announcer. She placed her hand behind her back, then outstretched it, and in her grasp was another Pokeball. Dread surged through King's chest. He took a step back. _Shit._

She released the Pokeball and out came a pignite, kicking up sand as it stomped on the ground.

"Vanessa has a third Pokemon?" The announcer said. "I'll tell you now, folks, as much as I wasn't expecting that, it's completely legal, even for a double battle! The max amount of Pokemon is three!"

King growled."I should have thought of that," he said. "I should have been the one with that strategy."

_Sir?_

"I told you," Vanessa boasted, crossing her arms. "My victory is assured unless you had the foresight to capture a third Pokemon. No? A shame."

Zorua stepped in front of him. _I don't care, sir! I'll fight!_

"Goddammit," King said, turning his head. "I got so close."

_Don't stop now, sir! Please, trust me. I can do this!_

King gave it a sideways look, opened his mouth, then hesitated, closing it again. He grunted. "You're right. I've come this far, so there'd be no point in stopping now."

_Exactly! But I'll fight only if you make me pancakes after._

"Why not," King smirked, shaking his head. "If we win, you can have all the pancakes you've ever wanted, and then some."

_Yay!_

"I hope you're finished talking to yourself," Vanessa said.

King nodded. "_Indeed_."

"Now we have round three! Could this match get any more exciting?"

King planted his feet. His heartbeat like a drum in his ears. Hot sweat trickled down his temple. A spray of it had plastered his clothes to his skin.

He closed his eyes, breathed in deeply, then opened them again.

"Extrasensory," he called.

Pignite dodged without an order from Vanessa, who also had to dive away from the rainbow beam. Pignite barreled forward, snorting and stomping.

"Let's try out that technique we practiced on the way to Vertress, zorua," King whispered. Vanessa rose to a stand, grumbling.

_You got it!_

"Zorua, transform into pignite!"

It did so, then charged toward Vanessa's Pokemon. She growled, and pignite stumbled back, confused.

The two Pokemon slammed into each other, locking arms.

"Pignite, Arm Thrust!"

Her Pokemon reeled one of its arms back.

"Transform!"

The strike met empty air as zorua morphed back into itself, too low on the ground to be hit.

"Pignite, Flame Charge!"

Tongues of flame sparked around pignite, then erupted into a sphere of fire that wreathed around it. It charged zorua.

"Transform into tynamo!"

Zorua slithered in its tiny form past pignite's legs, who snorted in confusion, stopping.

"Extrasensory!"

"Pignite, behind you! Flame Charge!"

Pignite spun. Zorua released its attack. Pignite raged through the beam and slammed into zorua, reverting it into its true form.

It catapulted into the wall, hitting with a thud and a yelp.

"Zorua takes the first hit, even after striking pignite! On top of that, its already damaged from whimsicott's Dazzling Gleam!"

Zorua curled into itself, hacking and reeling from the pain. Pignite stomped forward, the flames around it disappearing.

"Zorua, get up!"

"Pignite. End this with Arm Thrust."

Pignite stood over zorua, pulling a fist back, preparing to strike. King looked away, his heart sinking.

A slam echoed through the arena.

The wind gusted through King's hair. He opened his eyes. Pignite looked around in confusion. There was a crack in the wall, but zorua wasn't there.

The ground in front of King's feet broke. He looked down, mouth open.

A drilbur burst through the sand and crawled onto the hard ground, slumping, breathing heavy.

"Amazing!" The announcer cheered above the crowd. "Zorua transformed into drilbur to escape, using its claws!"

King chuckled as zorua morphed, still laying on the ground.

"You crazy son of a bitch," he said.

_I'll keep fighting, sir. _It struggled to stand._ I'm good enough._

Vanessa roared, pointing at zorua and King. "Pignite! Heat Crash!"

Waves of heat poured away from pignite as it became embroiled in another sphere of fire. It leaped into the air. Zorua looked at King.

"Alright," King said. "We've got to end this right now. Heat Crash is a powerful move since pignite is so much heavier than you are, understand? That means there's only one move we can use."

It nodded. Pignite rocketed toward them.

"Foul Play!"

…

N lurched to his feet. Many of the others around him did the same. This could not be happening.

The dust in the arena settled. Tears filled the edges of N's eyes. Pignite lay face down in the sand, and zorua stood victorious. The battle had scattered the other Pokemon in the arena, leaving them motionless. Lifeless, like a trees abandoned leaves.

The people screamed King's name. N wiped away a stray tear. He cried for the injured Pokemon. He cried for the ignorant populace that relished in the Pokemons wounds.

He cried because a man like King had won.

Ghetsis laid on a hand on his shoulder. "It is time, my son."

N nodded. He slid away from his seat, jostling past people with their arms in the air. He stalked down the stairs, to the railing a few feet above the arena. Security watched him uncertainly.

He leaped over the railing. The guards shouted after him as he landed, interrupting the announcer in mid-speech. Pain bristled through N's calves, but he did not care. He stomped forward, tears drying as rage built inside of him.

The crowd turned silent. King and the announcer watched him with eyebrows raised, while Vanessa had sunken to her knees, head hung low. N ignored the startled announcer and ripped the microphone from his hand.

"How can you all sit there and cheer!" He shouted into the microphone. "How can you watch and not be disgusted with yourselves? Pokemon are innocent creatures, and yet you scream with excitement when they are injured!"

He gestured to all the fallen Pokemon, spittle flying from his mouth. "Look around you! The government absorbs your attention with these battles, in the hopes that you will buy more Pokeballs and potions and tickets to tournaments so that they may be more powerful!"

Security poured from the arena entrances, racing toward him. "Do you see? They try and prevent me from opening your eyes! They do it because-"

Hands caught his shoulders, slamming him to the ground. He clutched the microphone as if it were his lifeline, uncaring of the sand that filled his mouth.

"Because they know… I am right! Open your eyes! Do not be manipulated! Release your Pokemon so that they be happy!"

The security ripped the device from his hands and began to drag him away.

They could not stop him. He was more affirmed in his goal than ever before. If someone like King could win, someone like that, then this world needed changing.

N would see to that himself.

…

King exited the stadium; a briefcase of one million Pokedollars in his hand, Pokeballs strapped at his waist.

He'd won. That green-haired man, who'd stomped into the arena, had interrupted them, but King was still declared the winner. The man had spouted nonsense, but his eyes had burned with such intense fire that the crowd had frozen where they stood. Even King did. If nothing else, the guy had believed what he said, even though it was rubbish.

King stepped forward into the city, heading for the Pokemon center. Release your Pokemon, he'd said. King was about to do that exact opposite. Finally, he was a trainer. Winning the tournament banished any semblance of doubt he had left.

It was time to challenge his first gym.


	14. End of Act One

I'm just putting this here to mark where Act One of the story ends. To anybody reading it, I hope you've enjoyed so far! :) Things are about to get spicy, hehe.


	15. Chapter 14

The bars of N's prison were like thin tree trunks, corrupted, and grayed. They stretched up from the ground, the rust their bark. N slouched against them, gripping with white-knuckles, feeling the cold metal dig into his forehead as he pressed it on the cell.

They had thrown him into a temporary prison for the simple act of proclaiming his beliefs to the populace. He did not know how long they were going to keep him there before a trial in court. He did not know, and that was what made his heart wrench in his chest. How long were they going to keep him jailed and imprisoned, like a Pokemon in a Pokeball? He wanted, _needed_, to be out in the world, convincing the people that the government was controlling them so that it could feed off the revenue from Pokemon battles. For N, being inside the prison was worse than death itself. He couldn't be productive toward his purpose in life and had to suffer, not able to do anything but sit, day after horrible day.

He tore himself away from the bars, placing his back against the hard, gray stone wall. He hugged his knees to his chest, shivering. It was cold in prison, despite the season outside being in the middle of a warm summer. The walls and gloom absorbed any ounce of heat, stealing it away from those imprisoned. The only light came from one ceiling lamp outside his cell, and the identical ones outside each other cell, which made the cage bars cast black shadows over him. He heard the sound of the other prisoners in separate pens, heard them cough and shuffle, along with the footfalls of an approaching policeman. N glared at the man as he passed, but he did not seem to notice.

It was people like that constrained N and prevented him from accomplishing his goal.

But he knew his father would come for him. No matter what happened, Ghetsis would not leave N to rot and decay any longer inside the cell._ If I don't get out of here soon… I think I may go mad._

He tossed his head back, glaring at the ceiling._ I cannot be in here, not for one... more... second!_

A crash sounded above him. The lamp outside his cell shook, creaking back and forth. N jolted to a stand, grasping the bars. Some of the others yelled in surprise, calling out questions that went unanswered.

It was his father. It had to be. But why had his father let them capture him? Why did he wait for days to come?

The noise above drifted away to silence until N could hear only the confused murmurs of his fellow inmates. He stirred as half a minute passed, then one in full, and then another. He found himself giving up hope again. It was as if each moment he spent behind those connected rods of metal, was another they sapped more and more from him. _Father is here_; he tried to tell himself, _he is coming for_-

Another blast erupted, followed by a cry and the sound of clanging metal. Footsteps echoed down the stairs to the prison. They drew closer. Closer, closer. Prisoners gaped or growled as a shadow stretched and then shrunk as it moved toward N.

Ghetsis stepped in front of his cell. He held a rack of keys in one hand, that jingled as he began to unlock the cage.

N's heart swelled in his chest. He beamed.

"Father!" He said as the door swung open. "It's you! I knew-"

"No time, my son," Ghetsis interrupted, beckoning N to follow him back the way he had come. "We must leave here before more in the police force arrive."

They jogged the dimly lit hallway. N had never seen his father run so fast. At the concrete stairs leading upward, bodies in blue uniform lay scattered at the steps, unmoving, unconscious, or…

Dead.

N scrambled up after his father, adrenaline pounding through his veins. He didn't dare look back at the faces of those they passed. "Father… how did you…"

They arrived at the police station's upper floor. Night seeped in through broken windows, their shards glinting in the moonlight. "There is no time," Ghetsis growled. "I will explain later."

They passed shadowed lumps collapsed against tables, and on the floor, some N had to step over, some covered in shelves-worth of discarded paper like so many leaves. He rubbed a hand against a section of wall, covered in spots of flaking soot. N smelled the stench of something burning and plugged his nose against the awful, acidic stench. What _was _that?

Ghetsis led him outside, into Vertress City, where the smell no longer stained the air. Sirens blared in the distance. Had his father used Pokemon? No. No, no, no. N refused to believe that could be a possibility. It must have been some technology developed by one of the Seven Sages. Yes. That was it.

His father yanked him by the arm, and they darted into the forest, into a symphony of Pokemon calls. When they were at a distance Ghetsis deemed to be safe enough, they crouched and rested against the trees, breathing heavily. Their gasps sounded like echoes in the night above the sirens that had faded into the distance.

"The people…" Ghetsis breathed. It must have been incredibly difficult for him to run in his robe. "Have answered."

"They have, father? That's excellent news! What have they said? What action have they taken?"

Ghetsis rose to his feet, brushing dirt off his robe. N stood as well. "There are some who have expressed similar views to our own. We must establish an organization for these like-minded individuals to gather, my son, with you as the face - the rallying call - behind their cause.

N nodded without a moment's hesitation. He was ready. He had seen all he needed to see. He had witnessed people like King, how the government rewarded his awfulness.

"You realize, my son," Ghetsis continued. "That after this day, you will be a wanted criminal."

That, however, did make N hesitate. He did not like the idea of committing crimes, but he would do whatever it took to see his goal come to fruition as he had always wanted.

"I see, father. I understand. What will you name this organization?"

Ghetsis peered past the black trees. N could barely hear the sirens, but surely the police would be looking for them. N was not worried. His father always knew how to escape a sticky situation.

His father looked back at him. "Team Plasma, my son. We shall call it Team Plasma."


	16. Chapter 15

The palace doors sealed shut behind N and his father. They moved through the small antechamber, which was empty and without light, but which N loved the sight of all the same. He breathed in the familiar scent of dust and smiled at the walls. It felt good to arrive home finally, but he didn't want to stay for too long. There were no wrongs to right here.

Ghetsis unveiled a hand from his robe and pushed open the dark, wooden doors to the main chamber, stepping through. N followed. The light of the many chandeliers greeted them.

The room was large; the walls painted over with chipped, red paint. There were doors to the right and left that served as entry to the many zigzagging corridors. A wide, marble staircase at the far wall led to the upper floor, which was railed by balustrades and columns. At the foot of the stairs, both of his sisters were waiting for them.

They beamed at N.

"Anthea! Concordia!" He ran to them, footfalls echoing against the marble floor, and hugged them both in a tight embrace. They smelled faintly of a fruity perfume, as they always had.

"We're so happy to see you, N," Anthea said.

"How have you been?" Concordia asked. He released them, unable to stop the edges of his lips from pulling upward.

"I'm well," he said, squeezing their shoulders. "Very well."

Anthea's smile lessened, and she shared an uneasy look with her sister. N frowned. What had he said?

"Is something the matter?" He asked.

Concordia shook her head, then took N's hand from her shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly. "No. Of course not, N. We're so happy to see you again. Why don't you come to the kitchens, and we'll see you fed?"

He shook his head. "Father says the Sages will gather for a meeting. I am to join them." He stepped to the side so that they could look at Ghetsis, where he stood patiently in the center of the room.

They bowed. "Father," they said in unison.

He stepped forward. "Anthea, inform the sages that we have arrived. Tell them they are to assemble in the throne room. Concordia, see that you prepare it."

They nodded and hurried up the stairs. Anthea looked over her shoulder at N, and he offered a small wave before Ghetsis turned to address him.

"We will be discussing the future of the newly created Team Plasma," his father said, "and the plan for convincing more of the populace. Furthermore, whether we will begin freeing the Pokemon through force, intimidation, or continued persuasion."

N cocked his head as they started up the steps. "Force, father?"

"Yes," he said, his tone dry. "It may be necessary to capture the Pokemon from ignorant trainers who do not listen to our cause and release them peacefully. Once we have obtained them, we would then release them to the wild."

N opened his mouth, then closed it again. He supposed it was possible that using violence, the person, or, worse, the Pokemon, might be injured, but he trusted Ghetsis' judgment, and he would take any step toward furthering his goal, even if that meant using force. He was, after all, a criminal, and so perhaps it was necessary.

They arrived at the top of the steps, where the landing split into two pathways leading left and right. There was no noise except for their muted footsteps on the carpet as they turned right.

His thoughts churned. He wondered about his goal, but as he did so, Luna kept slipping into his mind. He pushed an image of her away. She was gone. There was no use in thinking of her anymore. But why couldn't he stop? He had no time for relationships like the one he'd had with her, which would only harm him in the end, as Ghetsis made clear. No time. And, besides, if being with her did not further his ambitions, then there was no point to it.

They turned again and came to the throne room, where the door stood ajar. Ghetsis led N inside. Below the dais, where the ornate throne sat, Concordia had arranged wooden chairs in a circle. A number of the Sages had already arrived: Bronius, Gorm, and Rood. Gorm noticed them enter and shuffled his way over.

He dipped his head to Ghetsis. "My Lord Ghetsis. It is so good to see you again! I have heard things have gone, ah, very good. No, indeed, I have seen it."

Ghetsis nodded and moved around Gorm, where he exchanged terse words with the other Sages already seated. Gorm followed him with his eyes, jaw unhinged, then startled himself from staring and bowed to N.

"My Lord N," he said. He was a short man with a drooping gray mustache that hung past his jowls. N had always liked him. He worked hard to please Ghetsis, and N could do nothing but respect the Sage because of that.

He smiled. "Gorm. Have things been well?"

He raised his head and nodded hastily. "Oh, yes, My Lord. Very, thank you." His eyes darted about nervously, but then, he had been like that for as long as N could remember, and the Sages had been around since he was a boy.

"Shall we join the others, Gorm?" N asked, gesturing toward the group.

"Oh, ah, yes, Lord N. Yes."

N nodded.

They walked together to the ring of chairs, where Bronius and Rood sat with Ghetsis. Each Sage wore a robe of their own, like Ghetsis', though none nearly as intricately designed. It was only proper, he thought, since Ghetsis was their leader. Bronius was a heavy-set man, whose bulk strained against his robe, and Rood a stark contrast: slim and composed.

N said his greetings and sat next to his father. Gorm placed himself where he had been previously: beside Bronius.

The room was filled with dry coughing and sniffing as they awaited the arrival of the remaining Sages. Each was much older than N, and while he highly respected all of them for their dedication, they tended to make a great deal of noise, even when not talking. Not his father, of course, and perhaps not Rood, who both remained composed and patient.

N relaxed in his seat, and the three other Sages eventually trickled in and took their places. Giallo was first, then Ryoku, and lastly arrived Zinzolin. When each settled themselves, Ghetsis stood and folded his arms inside the sleeves of his robe.

"We are starting upon a new path," he said. "We are now part of the group Team Plasma. We will be discussing the best approach to releasing all Pokemon from the bonds of servitude." He sat.

"Recruitment is progressing nicely," Rood said. "Lord N's incursions in society have garnered much attention from the general public. Government agents and special police forces have, as expected, attempted to stop me, but I have dealt with many of them accordingly. The Unova leaders are wary of our… revolution."

"As they should be," Bronius said. "But where will the grunts stay? Don't tell me we're flooding the castle with them.

Ghetsis turned to him. "The majority will stay where they are and be contacted when I wish them to carry out assignments. We will have a presence in each town and city, and eyes everywhere."

The group nodded their assent. Gorm leaned forward, mustache shaking as he spoke. "I, ah, have a proposal, My Lord Ghetsis."

"Speak."

His gaze fluttered about. "The homeless, My Lord," he said. "There are an, ah, exceedingly great many of them in the major cities. What if we were to give them food and shelter, here in the castle, in exchange for their service?"

Zinzolin scowled. "I'll not have the grubby and dirt-stained around me," he said. To N, his voice sounded like two pieces of gravel rubbing together. He had a pinched face lined with deep creases. N tried to find good things to like about the Sage, but he found it difficult, at times.

"The decision does not rest in your hands, Zinzolin," Ghetsis said. Zinzolin grunted.

"I think it is a great idea," N chimed in. "Perhaps I could even see to it myself, father?"

"No, my son," he answered. "After the business in Vertress City with the girl and your criminal status, I will not risk it. You will be able to boost the morale of our subordinates by showing yourself to those already recruited, but that is all you will have to do with recruitment."

"Business with the girl?" Rood asked. "What do you mean?"

The eyes in the room shifted to look at N. He met their gazes in turn, trying to hold steady, but he felt his cheeks stain red. He had not meant to escape with Luna. He hadn't.

"It does not matter," Ghetsis said. "We are straying from the topic at hand. Your idea is possible, Gorm, and while I do not wish to have any more of them around me, as Zinzolin said, it is feasible and beneficial. There is an issue, however, in that we do not have the supplies to feed them."

"We can always farm the nearby land," Ryoku said: a gaunt man with a high-pitched voice. "We haven't in, well, ages, as I recall, because of the lack of manpower, but that shouldn't be a problem if we task it with some of these recruits."

Ghetsis was still for a moment, the creases of his forehead indicating that he was thinking on it when eventually he nodded his agreement. "Very well. There are no objections other than that of Bronius and Zinzolin? You will both live with this, whether it suits you or not, as I will."

Bronius grunted, and Zinzolin's scowl deepened. When none of the others voiced an objection, Gorm exhaled and grinned proudly. N could not help but smile at the look.

"Furthermore, Ghetsis," Rood said, "I believe we should consider, now that we are beginning to acquire a collection of supporters, becoming a more aggressive force. A more proactive one."

"Go on."

Rood cleared his throat. "Lord N has successfully opened the populace's eyes, as I did mention earlier, but now that we have their attention, we must hold it, or risk falling back to the shadow. We must strive for bigger, for more. I propose we begin to ransack certain places, stealing the Pokemon held there and disrupting the order of Unova. Only then will we be most persuasive."

"You suggest we create anarchy?" Ghetsis asked.

"Indeed."

"I have thought the same."

"Agreed," Bronius said.

All of the Sages progressively murmured their mutual agreement. They seemed intent on the idea, and N had no objections. If that was their desired plan, then he, too, wanted to be a part of it.

"I get we're all bent on saving Pokemon," Zinzolin growled, startling N from his thoughts. "But I've heard tales of powerful legendary beasts. If we were to harness their power, then-"

"No!" N shouted, standing. "That goes against all we stand for."

Zinzolin scoffed. "You're naive. The servitude of two greater Pokemon will allow us to free all the lesser ones."

"It is not right," N flared. He met Zinzolin's cold gaze. He would not back down, not when the issue involved Pokemon.

"Sit, my son. I will not base the future of this organization off of idle rumor."

Zinzolin tsked. N seated himself but turned to address Ghetsis.

"Father," he said. "If we are beginning to act, really act, please allow me to perform some of the duties. Allow me to lead our members on attacks."

Ghetsis pursed his lips. "No, my son. I cannot risk you. It is not the right time."

"Please," N said. At times, his father's care went too deep, even though N loved him for it. "I do not care about my life, only about freeing Pokemon. Father, if you will not allow me to participate in recruitment, allow me this."

"N is, ah, the face of our organization, My Lord Ghetsis," Gorm said, glancing at N. "If… he participates in these activities; it will only further spread his name, yes? Therefore more will be willing to rally behind our Lord, and he will gather, ah, more attention about himself."

"I do not see the harm in it," Rood shrugged. "He has the zealousness of youth. I say, let him go."

Ghetsis scowled at them, and Gorm flinched. Eventually, however, his father sighed and nodded. N beamed.

"Thank you, father. I will not disappoint." He leaned back in his chair. The conversation around him continued, but he listened with only half an ear, stirring and shifting in his seat. He was too excited to sit still. He wanted to leave the castle that very instant and begin to make his mark on the world. Team Plasma would start to free Pokemon, and people would learn the errors of the society in which they lived.

N was at the center of it. He had never wanted to lead or even participate in criminal activities, not before, but things had changed. He had changed.

And now it was time for Unova to do the same. He fidgeted until the meeting was over, and the Sages dispersed, each going their separate ways. For the remainder of the day, N found himself not able to relax, and he slept for a short time only when day turned to night. In the morning, he rushed to meet his father, and together they set off.

Back out into the world.


	17. Chapter 16

"Dark Pulse."

Zorua spun, leaping in the air. Drayden's axew shielded itself with its arms, but it was too weak to provide any real resistance.

The move hit, knocking it back onto the gym's metallic flooring with a thump. It didn't get up afterward.

"Axew is unable to battle," the ref called. "King wins!"

He smirked. Zorua bounded up to him, grinning like a fool.

_We did it! Woo!_

"Yup," King said. He held out a Pokeball, and zorua disappeared inside it. He hooked the device back on his waist. "That we did."

Drayden returned his Pokemon to its Pokeball, then started to walk toward King. The dragon-type gym leader was jacked with rippling muscle, even in his old age, and had a snow-white beard that covered his lips. For someone who looked so fierce, though, the battle hadn't even lasted five minutes. King knew the gym leaders changed what Pokemon they used based on how many gym badges the challenger had, but, still. That was a walk in the park.

"Nicely executed, son," Drayden said, holding out a veined hand. King eyed it, then shrugged and took it in a handshake.

"Thanks," he said. He took his hand away, and in it gleamed the black and gold Legend Badge. "Are all gyms this easy?"

Drayden grunted. "No. There's only so far someone can get on strength and intelligence alone."

"You sure about that, old man?" King chuckled. "Those are pretty much the only two factors that determine the outcome of a Pokemon battle. That combination was what allowed me to beat, not just you, but win the whole Vertress Tournament."

The gym leader eyed him up and down. King was about to say something when Drayden turned on his heel and started on his way. King blinked.

"You'll see, son," Drayden said as he walked. "One of those gym leaders will open your eyes sooner or later. Shame it couldn't be me."

King frowned as the man disappeared behind a sliding glass door that led further into the gym. What did Drayden know that he didn't? King was all for learning new things, but what could be a factor besides the trainer's intelligence and the strength of his Pokemon?

He turned, heading for the gym exit. _The trainer's determination? Typing advantage, too, but that counts under intelligence._

He shrugged, eying the badge in his palm. He pinned it to his shirt.

It didn't matter, in the end. At the rate he was going, he'd be at the Pokemon league in the blink of an eye. No battles lost, yet. If he'd started way back when, chances were he'd already be the Champion of the whole damn region.

The doors slid shut behind him as he stepped out onto the streets of Opelucid City. The orange sun hid behind the tall, black buildings that reminded him of Castelia City. The people, too, were the same, all bustling about wearing skirts or suits and holding black briefcases. Bronze painted the sky, and the clouds flared with reds and oranges under the setting sun. Wind whipped at his hair as he started down the sidewalk.

Both zorua and rufflet were performing well, though neither had evolved. He figured it was about time for a third Pokemon. _Wonder what the best-_

"Wow! Are you King?"

He stopped. His eyebrows furrowed themselves into knots. _Who in the?_

He glanced over his shoulder and didn't immediately see anyone until he looked down. A kid, probably around six or seven, stared at him with wide eyes, hands clasped before himself. A little ways away, a man waved at him and watched. Probably the kid's father.

King spun and squatted down. "Yeah, sure, that's me. Do I know you?"

"You're the trainer with the zorua with the rip in its ear, right?"

King grunted. "Yep."

The kid squealed. "Can I see him?"

King eyed him, taking zorua's Pokeball from his waist. _Probably knows me from the tournament. Well, can't say it isn't nice to be admired, eh?_

He held out the Pokeball. "Alright. Here. Go on and throw it."

Amazingly, the kid's eyes got even wider. He took the device in both hands as if it were the greatest thing he'd ever held in his life.

"What… what should I say?"

"Hm. Zorua, I choose you!"

The kid danced on his feet. "Okay, okay, here I go!" He threw the Pokeball, away from any people. "Zorua, I choose you!"

Zorua appeared. It looked around curiously.

"It's like I'm an actual trainer!" The kid beamed.

King stood and ushered zorua over. "Damn straight, bud. Er, I mean, yeah, it is!"

_Hey, sir! Whose this? Hi! Who're you?_

The kid squeaked with excitement, again, when he realized zorua could talk. King let them do their thing as the father came over to introduce himself.

"Hey, thanks for that," he said. "Brandon's a big fan of yours ever since we saw you in the tournament. Come on, Brandon, let's leave the good man alone."

He waved to King with one hand and took his son's hand in the other. They walked away into the crowd, the kid bubbling over how much he wanted a zorua, and the dad promising he'd find him one and let him have it all to himself.

_What's with the look, sir? Sad he paid more attention to yours truly?_

King grunted. "Yeah, right. Come on, let's go."

Zorua hopped onto his shoulder and made himself comfy. King joined the stream of people and noise moving down the street.

_We're we going, sir?_

"Gym battle. I beat the first, so, as it goes, we're off…"

He froze. People shouldered past him, cursing. The flow eventually curved around him, but he wasn't paying any attention: he was looking up at a big flat-screen TV on the side of one of the buildings.

_Sir?_

"Hold on," King said. "Listen."

"… Reports say that the man at the head of these recent break-ins," the news lady announced, "is the same perpetrator who escaped from a temporary holding cell in Vertress City mere days ago, leaving behind a nearly destroyed police station in his wake. Police first arrested him for leaping into the arena at the end of a government-sponsored tournament, stealing a microphone, and proclaiming that all Pokemon are suffering. His current whereabouts are unknown, but police are working tirelessly at the scene…"

A picture flashed across the screen. A mug shot of a man with long green hair. It was him.

_Hey! I remember him!_ Zorua said.

King nodded. "Looks like he's starting to take action. How stupid can you be? All to save Pokemon when they don't even need saving." He started walking again.

_You think they'll catch him, sir? Red-handed?_

"Dunno. Doesn't matter. I'm focusing on one thing and one thing only."

He glanced at the screen, then turned his attention forward, ignoring the news. "Come on. I've got another gym badge to win."


	18. Chapter 17

N observed the gym from the shadows of a nearby alleyway. Fluorescent light spilled from its glass windows, bathing the street, but the shroud of night prevented him from being seen his small distance away. Around him, the buildings of Opelucid City rose, opaque towers of black, with illuminated windows as pinpricks of light on their inky surfaces. The city breathed with noise from afar, but not from nearby: there were not many people outside the gym. The night air was warm and sticky with moisture. N tugged at the color of his black shirt.

"He must not see you, my son," Ghetsis said to him. The other members of Team Plasma crowded around his father, both of them wearing dark clothing to shield themselves from view. "Drayden is powerful, as much as I loathe to admit it. If he discovers you before you capture the Pokemon, he will loose them on you. Nevertheless, I have provided something that may yet aid you should you need it. Do not fear its use. Am I understood?"

"Yes, father."

Ghetsis looked to the two others, Emile and Julia. They each nodded their agreement.

"Good," Ghetsis said. "I will be waiting for you where we discussed earlier. Do not fail me."

His father took to the streets. N looked again at the gym. Ghetsis was gone; it was up to N.

Julia nudged him on the shoulder. She unzipped a backpack and pried it open. N turned and looked inside.

Inside was a pistol.

"Damn," Emile whispered, peering in. "Where the hell did your father get that?"

"I… do not know," N said, then shook his head. Tentatively, he took the weapon, examining it. Could a thing this small be so dangerous? "There is only one?"

"Yeah," Julia said.

"I will take it. My father wishes, above all else, for us to be safe, but I do not think he thinks we'll have to use it. It is a precautionary measure, I'm sure."

They nodded.

"Alright, let's go already," Julia said, slinging the pack over her shoulders. She was undoubtedly an eager one; N could tell it by her tone and the way her expression changed when she spoke of Pokemon. Not that it was a bad thing. "Steal this guy's Pokemon, right? Easy."

"Gyms are always unlocked," Emile said. "I guess because nobody ever thinks of breaking into one, you know? Everyone admires them and everything. Oh, and there's not much to take, anyway. Unless you're us."

Julia glared at him. "How do you know that?"

N looked at him as well.

Emile glanced between them, then shrugged. "I… used to be a trainer for a gym. You know, one of the supporting people?"

"You were a trainer?" N spat.

"Woah, woah," he said, holding up his hands in a pacifying gesture. "That was a long time ago. And, don't worry, it showed me that being a trainer is wrong. I couldn't stand to watch the Pokemon get injured anymore. That's why I'm here, N. Sir."

N breathed a sigh of relief. "Ah, that is good to hear, Emile. You had me concerned for a moment."

"Ha, yeah. Apologies, boss."

Julia did not look away from him. "He's suspicious. Once a trainer, always a trainer. You think you're ready to commit a crime?"

"It's not really," Emile said. "We're saving Pokemon."

"We're stealing."

Emile shrugged. N shook his head and ushered them closer to him.

"Come. We have work to do."

He led them across the street toward the gym, where they crouched along the side wall, no light to illuminate them. Very few people lingered in the street, not at this time of the night. Opelucid City was not Castelia City, and they were not in the center of Opelucid, where traffic was most oppressive.

Even so, N's heart thumped against his chest. He clenched his hands to prevent them from shaking, gripping the gun tight in one of them. What if Drayden discovered them? Called the police? N would return to jail.

That could not happen. N would not let it.

He pictured his father, awaiting their arrival. Even after N had disobeyed Ghetsis once, he was still allowed this chance. He could not fail when it mattered most.

He signaled Julia and Emile to follow him as he dove into the light cast from the gym, jogging to the sliding glass door. Could it open any slower? He sprinted inside with his partners behind him and looked out once the door had shut. No one had noticed them. N exhaled deeply.

"Do you think Drayden heard the door open?" Emile whispered.

"Shut up," Julia hissed. N crouched against the wall and led them further inward, stepping lightly on the metal floor. They crossed the fighting stage, where trainers abused Pokemon every day. It reminded him why he was going to such lengths.

He gripped the gun tighter.

Their footsteps, no matter how quiet, sounded to N like cannon fire. His heart thrummed even louder. Sweat seeped from his forehead, trailing in a line down his chin. He wiped it with the sleeve of his shirt before it could fall and hit the floor.

Another sliding door marked the way forward. N heard nothing coming from inside, and so they crouched through. Beyond was a room with sleek white walls and a ceiling too high for N to see in the darkness. There was a door on the right wall, and nothing more. N inched toward it.

"Hey, wait!" Emile called silently, causing N to look over his shoulder. Opposite the door, Emile had found and opened a shelf hidden as part of the wall. Pokeballs jutted out from hollow indents inside.

N rushed over, smiling, Julia behind him. "Excellent, Emile! Come, Julia, let me see that pack." She handed it to him. As fast as he was able, he stuffed the Pokeballs into the backpack. Emile discovered more shelves and began to pry them open, revealing Ultraballs and Greatballs, Duskballs, and Heavyballs. N's smile widened to a grin, his anxiousness disappearing. He moved down the wall, shoving the devices into the pack with Emile and Julia's aid.

"Look at all of these!" Emile exclaimed. "How the hell did he get so many? And they're all dragon-types?"

"Who cares?" Julia said. "Let's grab them all!"

N nodded. "I cannot believe we found them all so easily! Still, we must hurry! We do not know where Drayden is, but-"

The door opened. Light spilled from inside, crashing over them. A large shadow blackened the ground.

"What is going on here?" Drayden boomed.

Emile dropped a Pokeball he was holding. It thumped to the ground. "Shit!"

He sprinted for the door.

"Emile!" N shouted. Dread gripped his throat. Drayden lunged for Emile, tackling him to the ground. He slammed burly arms down on Emile's shoulders, pinning him. Emile kicked and yelled. Julia backed against the wall, cursing.

"Use the Pokemon!" Emile screamed. "Does that work? Dammit, try it, try it!"

"I will not!" N shouted. Thoughts whirled through his mind. _The gun. I must use it. There is no other choice!_

N pointed it at Drayden. His voice shook and trembled as he spoke.

"You will back away, and you will let us leave, Drayden. Release my friend. I do not want to harm you."

Drayden froze. He turned his head to look at him. He did not release Emile, who grimaced and cried out.

"You're the one," Drayden growled. Veins ripped through his forearms. "The one from the tournament."

"Release Emile!"

Drayden did not move. His gaze bore into N. Another moment passed. Then another. A herdier barked in the distance. The gun shook in N's hand. The walls seemed to be closing in on him. Closer, closer, closer. Suffocating. Numbing.

The gym leader charged at him.

Time seemed to slow. N's throat locked. His eyes went wide, eyelids peeling back in horror. His heart broke, collapsed, crumbled. He did not want to do it. He did not. Could not. He wouldn't!

_I won't do it!_

He fired the gun.

The explosion seemed to crack his mind in two.

Drayden crashed to the ground. Blood pooled from a wound at his throat. A cold blanket of silence enveloped the gym.

Julia grabbed N's arm. "Come on! We have to leave!"

The bag and the gun fell from N's grip. He looked down at his hand. It was pale. Ghostly-white. Emile cursed and grabbed the Pokeballs rolling out from the pack before he could grab it. Julia led them away.

Numbness crept over him. The scorching night seeped into his skin. He ran, following the shadowed figures ahead of him.

He did not look back.

He did not think.


	19. Chapter 18

"Zorua, Extrasensory. Rufflet, Aerial Ace."

Zorua glared at rufflet, neither one of them doing as he asked. King sighed. Their opponent, amoonguss, danced around. Then its head began to glow.

"Oh, come on. It's using Solar Beam. Rufflet, Aerial Ace. Zorua, I swear, don't you move a muscle."

Rufflet bolted forward, squawking. It crashed beak-first into the amoonguss, who toppled over into a puddle like a fallen tree. Rufflet flew around happily over its unmoving body.

Zorua whipped around and glared at King.

_Sir! How could you?_

He shrugged, shifting to adjust the pack slung over his shoulders. He didn't have to worry much about money, not after the tournament, so he'd bought it and a few supplies before leaving Opelucid City. "Try working with rufflet next time."

Zorua huffed and turned its back on him. He frowned, sighed again, and went over to return rufflet to its Pokeball. Once it was, he looked around for any sign of another Pokemon to fight.

Trees scattered the flat swampland in patches, long stretches of glistening water between them. He was pretty sure summer had ended some time ago, evidenced by the splotches of reds and yellows and oranges stained through the green. After Opelucid City, he'd decided to head for Icirrus City, where the ice gym-leader Brycen made his home. King had first crossed the Tubeline Bridge, to get here: Route Eight, where he decided rufflet and zorua could use a fair amount of training before he attempted his second gym badge.

He studied the area, watching for any movement among them that might indicate the presence of a nearby Pokemon. He found nothing.

Zorua trotted over and rubbed up against King's ankle like a purrloin.

_What're you looking for?_

"Looks like you're over your little pouting session," King said. Zorua frowned at him. "Why do you refuse to work with rufflet?"

_No reason._

"Zorua."

_What?_

"I'm not playing these games with you."

_It isn't a game! There's no reason. I just don't like him._

King turned away from looking around and squatted down to meet it at eye level. "Listen. Think back on the tournament. Because you didn't like rufflet, I couldn't have you both attack the same target or even have rufflet protect you when you needed it. That could have cost the match. You're going to have to work with rufflet, whether you like it or not, so tell me why you won't so I can fix it."

Zorua looked away. King sat, drumming his fingers on his knee for a long while before it decided to speak.

_Do you remember when you found me, sir? In the alley? I was so happy! Those other people, they wanted nothing to do with me, but you, sir, were different! You took me in and cared about me. I wanted to work so hard to repay you, but… but what happens when you catch more Pokemon? I'm afraid you're not going to need me anymore, sir!_

King blinked. "Woah, let me clear something up first. I only came to get you that time because I wanted to use you in the tournament, not because I felt sympathy. Mature up a little, zorua. That's probably your issue."

The wind rustled through the trees. Something splashed in one of the nearby ponds.

_Sir? Are you joking?_

"What? No."

Tears welled up in the corners of its eyes. King started in surprise. _Pokemon can cry? Since when is that a thing?_

_You're not serious!_

"I am, I mean-"

It darted into the woods.

"Hey!" King called, shooting to a stand. He fumbled for zorua's Pokeball. Once he unhooked it, he looked up and aimed it.

Only zorua had already disappeared.

He slumped, scratching the back of his head. "What the hell is this all about?" He looked for any black or dark red amid all the other colors.

Zorua was gone.

He circled a large puddle, heading in the direction it had run. He buckled the Pokeball at his waist, shaking his head. _Well, shit. Guess I have to go find it. _He scanned ahead, looking from left to right.

He started forward.

As he progressed further into the marshland, away from the main road, trees became less sparsely populated and instead bunched together in dense thickets that shaded the sun overhead. He considered sending rufflet to scout the area. Eventually, though, he resolved that, with all the trees, it wouldn't do him much good. Besides, the last thing he needed happening was to get caught alone by one Pokemon or another while he didn't have one to defend himself with. The calls of all sorts of them echoed through the swamp.

He checked in trees and through swatches of thick undergrowth, and by the deep pools of water, sometimes waiting by them. He watched for tracks or tufts of black fur that might've gotten caught on some bark or a branch but found nothing. The sun sunk in the sky. He was wasting time.

He slumped against a tree, wiping sweat from his forehead with a sleeve. _Dammit, it's hot. No sign of zorua. _His mouth felt dry, and his tongue swollen.

He slipped off the straps of his pack, then slid down to sit with it next to him. He dug out a bottle of water, downing it all in one go, then tossed the empty plastic back inside. He sighed and leaned his head on the tree. _Better._

Where could zorua have gotten to? Why did it run away in the first place? He guessed that it hadn't realized it wasn't anything special to King. Could Pokemon even feel that level of emotion? Apparently so. Or maybe it was a zorua thing. He'd never met another Pokemon that could speak through telepathy, either.

He zipped his pack and stood, having regained his breath, and slung it over his shoulders. _Suppose I'll_-

Something cried out in the distance. King stopped, listening; it sounded like a zorua.

He jogged in that direction, pushing through trees and stepping over bundles of undergrowth. The cry sounded again. King sped up. _Don't die on me. I need that illusion ability!_

He broke through a clearing, where a vast, sparkling lake took up space in the center. To his right, a black bundle of fur crouched against a tree, desperately trying to shield itself from an onslaught of attacks dealt by a dozen tympoles, all dousing zorua with jets of water.

King charged. Zorua looked up, cringing against the pain.

_No! Stay away! I can do this on my own! I'm good enough!_

He ignored it and chucked rufflet's Pokeball into the air. It appeared, morphing from a ball of light.

"Tail Wind!"

Guests of air beat at the surface of the water, sending ripples coursing through it. The tympoles wailed and dove underneath the water. King jogged over to zorua, where it huddled against the base of the tree.

_I'm good enough, sir. You'll see. You don't need any other Pokemon. I'll be… the best._

King sighed. He returned it to its Pokeball. "I'm sure you will, zorua. I'm sure you will. Just don't make me have to chase after you again."

Rufflet squawked. King tucked the Pokeball in its place and turned, seeing rufflet circle around in the air. Something in the water had its attention.

King came to the edge of the lake, blinking. One of the tympoles hadn't fled with the others.

It smiled lazily. King grunted, squatting down.

"What's up with you?"

It blew into the water, creating bubbles that popped at the surface.

"Well," King said. "Nothing like a good seismitoad."

He tossed the Pokeball at it. The device floated, shook three times, then clicked. King fought the urge to laugh as he grabbed it out of the water, standing up.

"Not much resistance, eh?"

He held it in front of him. "Nice. Now that that's settled, let's stop wasting time."

He walked over to rufflet's Pokeball, and returned it inside once it flew down at his call. Far off in the distance, he thought he could make out the faint shape of buildings atop a hill.

"Icirrus City," he said to himself. He put rufflet with the others. "The second gym badge is calling my name."


	20. Chapter 19

_It was for the goal. Humans are evil. It was for the goal. Humans are evil. Evil. Evil. Evil._

"They're evil," N whispered, burying his face in his hands. No matter how many times he repeated the same mantra to himself, the feeling in his heart would not go away. As if the guilt were breaking it in two.

He had killed someone - a person with hopes, and with dreams. Drayden may have had a family. Children. Grandchildren. Now they would all witness his pale, lifeless body as they placed it into the ground. Tears would fall in streams down their faces. Sadness, anger, and grief would stir and pull inside of them. All because of N. All his fault.

He let his arms slump to his sides. He sat amid the coloring trees of a forest, staring with unblinking eyes at the licking flames of a crackling campfire. Heat splayed across the front of his body, and its light was a beacon that chased away the darkness of the night. His father had since fallen asleep, rolled up in his bedroll at the edge of the fire's illumination.

N could not sleep. When he did, he dreamed the same dream again and again of Drayden crawling toward him, fingernails splitting as they scraped the metal floor of the gym, black holes where his eyes should have been, blood weeping from a hole in his throat as he pleaded with N, demanding to know why. Why, why, why, why.

To free Pokemon, N would tell him. To free them. Was it worth it? Drayden would respond.

In the dream, N could not answer then. He wanted to believe that it _was_ worth it, that in taking one human life, he had saved hundreds of Pokemon from servitude. He did not want to think about what those Pokemon had said to him when he had released them into the wild. _Where is Drayden? Where is our master?_

He looked up. The first inklings of dawn glimmered through the trees, the sounds of many an awaking Pokemon coming with it. How long had he been staring into the fire, absorbed in his thoughts?

He knew that his body was beginning to shut down after days of not sleeping or eating. He glanced at the shadowed lump of blankets that was his father. N had tried to talk to him, but Ghetsis had proclaimed that what N had done was an act of extreme good, that the world - the Pokemon - were better for it. N desperately needed, more than anything, to believe those words, to expel the doubt in his mind, but he could not. Despite how painfully hard he tried to convince himself, despite how he _knew_ how wise his father was, how Ghetsis could always see the truth in all things, N could not convince himself.

_It was for the goal, N. For the goal._

Something rustled in the bushes nearby. N spared, whatever it was, no more than a glance. He did not care. If it was a Pokemon, then there was the possibility it could attack him, but he didn't think he had the will to defend himself. If it were a person, an agent sent by the government, then perhaps N would allow them to take him into custody. Maybe then the guilt would stop hanging over him: a great burden the size of the world that pushed down on his shoulders.

N heard the thing step out from the cover of the trees and bushes, but still, he did not look. Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut and resolved to let it do what it wished.

"N? Is that you?"

He froze. _That voice. It… cannot…_

A hand, soft, with slender fingers and painted nails, tentatively touched his shoulder. He turned slowly, and first saw sandals and a flower-printed dress, and sun-kissed blond hair…

"Luna," he whispered.

"N?" She said. "You don't look so good. Wow, you've gotten skinny! Are you alright?"

He shot to a stand, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the woods, away from the fire. He looked over his shoulder. The sun had risen further. Was there enough light that Ghetsis could see them? Gently, he tugged her behind a large maple tree.

"You cannot be here," he hissed. "My father is over there, sleeping, but he may awake soon. If he-"

"N," she said. "What's wrong? Tell me."

"Luna, we cannot speak here…"

"Fine. Let's go somewhere else, then."

"Luna-" She touched his arm. He yanked it away.

"My father, Luna," he said. "He does not want me to speak to you anymore. I won't go against his wishes, not again. Please, Luna, leave me."

She glared at him. "Are you going to do what he tells you for the rest of your life? You're not a little kid, N, and I can see that you _need_ to be away from him. Have you looked at yourself recently? Really looked?"

"I…" he peered around the tree, at Ghetsis, who had not moved so much as a single muscle. He had always been a heavy sleeper.

Luna intertwined her hand in his. Her smile returned, bright and radiant. "Come on. Don't keep a lady waiting forever."

He opened his mouth to object, but the words died on his lips as she pulled him along.

It was almost identical to what occurred in Vertress City, all those nights ago. Ghetsis had scorned him as immature, but… Luna was right, N needed to be away. Not necessarily from Ghetsis, but from the thoughts that plagued N's mind. Now that he had left, he did not think he could sit in front of that fire a moment longer, letting the cracks in his heart multiply.

As Luna led him farther and farther away from his father, the trees thinned until they grew in no more than sparse patches; the ground covered in a field of grass that sprouted from every inch of dirt. N gasped when Luna led him to the edge of a cliff. Far, far below, was a forest of a million trees, and in the distance, the glare of an orange sun peeked over the horizon.

Luna let go of his hand, slipped off her sandals, and plopped down at the cliff's edge as casually as for a meal. She smiled at him, her feet dangling off the edge. She patted the space next to her.

He peered over the edge, licking his lips. "I am not so sure. Is it safe?"

"Of course. Cliffs don't bite; they just sit there."

He chuckled, then slowly lowered himself to sit beside her. The wind swirled around them.

"So," Luna said. "I've seen you all over TV. You're practically the only thing anyone is talking about. People are starting to consider what you're saying, too."

He brushed invisible dust off his pant legs. "I… yes. I have to free Pokemon."

"Did you have to kill Drayden, as well?"

His breath snagged in his throat, forming into a lump there. His mouth hung open. He did not know what to say. How did she know it was him? He did not want to look at her: see the accusing expression on her face.

The thoughts returned.

He looked below him. Why was his life worth any more than Drayden's? Who else but N could pay for what he himself had done?

_A life for a life._

"Why did you do it, N?" Her voice was a whisper. "I thought it might have been you. Your face tells me I was right."

_Repentance._

"Look at me, N."

The wind howled in his ears._ Freedom._

"Look at me."

He did.

And there was nothing but sympathy in her face. Her eyes, beautiful, sparkling globes, called out to N. They pulled the words from his mouth, and he could not stop it as he laid his soul bare for her.

"I did not mean to," he said. His voice trembled, and his shoulders began to shake. He squeezed the fabric of his pants. "I swear it, Luna. I did not mean to. I only wanted to save the Pokemon, only that, but my father gave me a-a weapon, a… gun, and when Drayden discovered us… I-I did not know what to do! I hate myself for it. More than you could know, Luna. More than you could know. Everything got too carried away. Drayden should be living and I… I…"

She pulled his head to her chest. His arms slumped at his sides.

"It's okay, N. I understand. It's okay."

His mouth stayed agape. _She doesn't hate me. She forgives me? Me?_

He hugged her tightly to him and did not let go as the tears poured from his cheeks, and he wailed. She didn't release him. She didn't judge him for crying in front of her. She only held him close and did not let him go.

Behind the pounding ache of his forehead from weeping, he had a faint thought. _This is what I have always wanted._

She stroked his head, and like a patient mother, sat and waited. N could feel the weight on his chest lessening with each tear that trailed down his cheeks. He could not believe she was so kind.

"Look, N," she said, once his tears had died down. "The sun is up."

He wiped his eyes and did so, surprised to see that the land was bathed in light from a sun a small way above the horizon.

"Thank you, Luna," he whispered.

"Let's get you back before your father wakes up," she said. Reluctantly, he nodded and allowed her to pull him to his feet. He did not let go of her hand once he was standing.

"When will I see you again?" He asked.

She grinned. "Soon, if that's what you want. I'll come and find you."

"Do you promise me?"

"Promise."

Still, he didn't let go of her hands. She raised an amused eyebrow at him.

"I… goodbye, Luna." He ducked into the woods, his heart pounding. As he made his way back to the camp, his exhaustion seemed to have faded, and the biting hunger in his stomach gone. He felt alive again. He found himself not even caring if Ghetsis was awake or not, but when N arrived, his father was still sound asleep, and N returned to his position sitting atop the same log next to the fire, thoughts of Luna spinning through his head.


	21. Chapter 20

King stepped into Icirrus City. A muted nip chilled the air, a stark contrast to how it'd been in the swamp. All of the buildings that he could see were short and squat like a venusaur, except for one. He could pick out the gym immediately; a crowd gathered outside of it, and someone stood in front of the gym doors, having to address them all. Good chance that was the gym leader.

He started in that direction, taking the dirt streets that weaved through the town. The place looked as old as anything he'd ever seen as if the people had planted themselves in the area three hundred years ago and never figured to change a single thing. Most of the houses were wooden, and the place smelled of dust and sweat. He supposed all the people liked to keep with tradition and whatnot.

Tradition had its uses, he admitted. Most of them were just stupid.

He walked the steep hill to the gym, where murmurs of confused conversation filled his ears. The gym leader, Brycen, who looked as if he hadn't eaten in at least twenty years, listened to all the people with a placid expression, hands folded behind his back.

"… what does it mean for the gym challenge? What if trainers stop coming?"

Brycen shook his head. "The gym challenge will not be negatively affected. There are still thirteen gyms across Unova. What happened to Drayden, a dear friend of mine, was horrid, but it is not the first time a gym leader has died before they could name a successor."

King stopped mid-step at the edge of the crowd. Drayden was dead? But he'd challenged him no more than a few days prior. How in the…

"What if those people are right, Brycen?" Someone called out. "What if we really are abusing Pokemon?"

"The bond between Pokemon and person is like nothing else I know," Brycen said, taking note of King with a sweep of his eyes. "Battles may injure them at times, it is true, but if Pokemon could speak, I am sure they would say they wish for nothing else. Now, come. Go back to your homes. I have a challenger I must attend to."

They turned to look at King. He raised an eyebrow.

Some dished out a few last-minute questions for Brycen, grumbling about this and that, but the group eventually scattered back to their homes. Most didn't give King so much as a second glance. He stepped up to the gym leader once they had all gone.

"Greetings," Brycen said. "You have come to challenge me, I assume."

King nodded. "Drayden's dead? Seemed like he was ready to take on the whole damn world when I battled him a few days ago."

Brycen gave a tight-lipped smile. "He is no longer among us, yes. I suppose you were one of his last opponents." He eyed the badge pinned to King's shirt.

"Guess so," King said. "How'd he go?"

"Murder."

"They know who?"

"No." Brycen shook his head. "They do not, but I expect that it was one of those aligned with this N character. The one who has been appearing on the news. I have told the people of this town as much. Perhaps it was he himself who shot the bullet."

King rubbed his chin. That guy from Vertress City might have killed someone? He hadn't seemed the type, but considering he was a fanatic, maybe it wasn't too far-fetched. Drayden might have disagreed with N's beliefs, and that could have been all it took to set him off.

Either way, it wasn't King's concern. The people might be reacting to N in some ways, but as long as he didn't go around killing all the gym leaders left and right, King didn't see a reason to worry.

"Come," Brycen said, turning on a heel. He stepped inside the gym. "You have one badge, as I can see. Let us determine if you have the skill to earn a second."

No more than an hour later, King waled out from the doors with the Freeze Badge held in two fingers. He smirked to himself and pinned it next to the Legend Badge. Too easy. He hadn't even used zorua, who he figured would still need some time to pout before he was ready to battle again. So, rufflet had been the sacrifice, to deal as much damage as possible before King finished it with tympole. Good thing he'd caught it, too. The thing was a powerhouse.

He slid his hands into his pockets and started back down the hill. The next gym on the list was in Mistralton City, way past the mountains to the west. It'd take a long time to get there, but all that meant was more time to train his Pokemon. Not that they needed it. Skylar used flying-type Pokemon, which weren't super-effective against zorua, rufflet, or tympole. He'd be in and out of there quicker than he had with Brycen.

Coming into the city, or the village, more like, he passed a few of the creaky old buildings. Before he could get far, however, he noticed someone walking toward him. A tall, muscular build. A face like it had warped in on itself. A shadow that seemed to stretch for miles and miles, where it loomed over King. A bulbous nose. A square beard. Red, wispy hair…

King stumbled back. His father.

He needed somewhere to hide. Anywhere. His legs wouldn't move, nothing would. _No… no! Why is he here?!_

"Well, fuckin' well," his father said. He grinned at King. They were the same height, but King felt like he was inches and feet shorter. "Look at what the purrloin dragged in."

King swallowed hard. He gripped the fabric inside his pockets to keep his hands from shaking.

His father began to circle him. "What's my kid doing out in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, eh? Didn't like livin' in the big city?" He cackled, stopping in front of him. "Ooh, or is it because somebody thought they could become a trainer?"

He flicked the badges on King's shirt. King flinched and glared, sweat pooling at his forehead.

His father leaned forward. King smelled his rancid breath. "You think you're something great now, don't ya'? Didn't I tell you never to become a trainer, boy? Didn't I tell you? Well, let's see if you're all the hot shit you think you are."

He stepped back, still with that wearing that putrid grin. King wanted to tackle him, to tip it off and pound his face into the dirt. _No. You're not like him. Control your emotions. You're not some two year old anymore. He wants to battle? Then let's let him have it._

"Alright," King said. He shifted. "That's what you want? Come on!"

"You remember who I am, boy?" His father roared. He took an Ultraball in his hand.

"I'm the goddamn Humilau City gym leader! Who are you compared to that?"

They threw their Pokemon at the same time. Have to win this battle. There was one Pokemon that would let him do that.

"Leavanny!" King called. Zorua would know to come out as that. A signal to it. His father used water-type Pokemon, so-

The Ultraball opened. A conkeldurr slammed onto the ground, its weight shaking the nearby buildings. People yanked open their windows.

Zorua didn't transform when it appeared.

His father doubled over with laughter. "Oh, fucks sake! We aren't at the gym, boy! And look, that zorua doesn't even listen to ya'!"

_I can do it, sir. I'm strong enough. I'll show you._

It darted forward.

"Zorua!" King bellowed. His heart yanked up into his throat. "What are you-"

"Hammer Arm!"

Conkeldurr reeled one of its stone pillars back. It glowed with sharp white light.

"Zorua! Get the hell out of the-"

Zorua jumped. The pillar slammed into it. It flew to the side, cracking against the wall of a building, crumpling to the ground. Someone yelled.

King fumbled for another Pokeball. He was dimly aware of the fact that he was beginning to hyperventilate, something he hadn't done since being a kid. He didn't care. He had to win. The only option. Victory.

He threw rufflets Pokeball. It circled in the air.

"Rufflet… Aerial Ace!"

"Stone Edge!"

Jagged stones flew. Rufflet toppled. A loose rock caught King in the stomach. He collapsed to his knees, clutching his abdomen, exuding spittle as he coughed into the ground.

"Enough!" Someone shouted. "Enough!"

King released tympole. His father howled with laughter.

"Tym…pole… Muddy-"

"Focus Punch!"

A massive impact ruptured the ground. King didn't look up. He collapsed to the dirt.

His father stepped in front of him, cracking a boot into the back of his head. Dull gray pain split through King's skull. The pain brought with it memories. Memories he thought he'd long since forgotten.

"It's the same as always," his father hissed. "The goddamn same. If you ever come to my gym, I will humiliate you so horribly, boy. I will kill every one of your Pokemon, and don't you think for a second that I won't."

He turned and left. Hands grabbed King, pulled him to his feet. He ignored the people and stared after his father's disappearing form.

"I'm not afraid of you, bastard!" He screamed.

His father flipped him the finger. King squeezed his jaw so tight he thoughts the muscles might pop.

Why did he have to come back? Why did he have to remind King how awful his only father was?

_Next time,_ King thought. _Next time I'll be stronger than you've ever seen me before._


	22. Chapter 21

N followed his father into the old, derelict mansion, the wooden floorboards creaking under the soles of their feet. The paint on the walls, pocked with countless jagged holes from years of deterioration, had long since chipped away.

"This is where we will be staying the night," his father said. "One of the sages will bring us what we require."

N nodded. With his criminal status, he could not go in public, even during the dead of night, for fear of being recognized, and that meant his father could not, as well, or risk leaving N alone. At times, members of Team Plasma would obtain the things they needed for them, but this time Ghetsis had entrusted the task to one of the Seven Sages. Until he arrived, they would stay in the mansion, located on the far outskirts beyond the metal buildings of Castelia City.

His father seated himself on the floor; his back pressed against one of the walls. He closed his eyes and slid his arms inside the voluminous folds of his robes, leaving N to do as he wished.

He was not very tired - the sun had barely set - and so decided to explore the rest of the building.

He walked along slowly, the planks under him groaning in protest with each step. He came to a corridor bathed in shadow after turning a corner, so much so that he could not see the two ends to his right and left, but he decided to go left on a whim. The dust that had accumulated there over the years invaded into his nostrils as he went along. Each time he sneezed, the sound echoed back in his ears.

Like any person, the home had a history: a tale to tell in the worn, rusted hinges of its doors and its broken wood. Someone had decided to go against the flow of the nearby city, instead opting for a more quiet life, although, in the end, they abandoned it. N found himself enjoying the place, even if he wasn't able to shake the uncanny feeling that something watched him in the grave, black shadows. The souls of the dead who hid among the blackness, judging him for adding another to their ranks._ I did not mean to. I didn't._

He stopped, glancing to his side, where a mahogany spiral staircase curled upward, enclosed by a railing, flecks of gold-paint all that remained of its coloring. He started up it, thinking he could waste time by seeing what the upper floor had to offer. Not being tired wasn't the sole reason he wanted to stay awake. Soon, he was to meet Luna nearby, after the Sage had delivered their goods.

A smile crept onto his lips. That tended to happen whenever Luna's beautiful face appeared in his mind. He could not stop himself. More and more, he loved spending time in her company, despite how they could only meet at night when his father had long since fallen asleep.

N came to the top of the stairs, arriving at what appeared to be a large ballroom. It was a vast, open space with a floor that once would have polish and a marble fireplace where a warm, roaring fire would have gone. Nothing remained inside of the fireplace, he saw, moving over to it, other than a few stains of soot on the white marble. He sighed and leaned back against it, folding his hands behind him at waist level.

In sneaking away with Luna, he was disobeying Ghetsis' wishes. Again. His father would be furious if he ever discovered what N was doing. On top of that, the time he spent with Luna brought him no closer to achieving his goal.

Strangely, he didn't care about either. He felt as if he should, but he did not. Of course, he did not want to upset Ghetsis, and, of course, he was still as determined as ever to free Pokemon… even when the pursuit of that led to him taking another person's life, something he would never forgive himself for. But that guilt was lessened when he spent the first hours of dark chatting and laughing with Luna, knowing that she forgave him even when he did not. When he watched how carefree she lived, relieved from much burden, it made him see that, at times, living life to the fullest meant doing what brought happiness. And he was never more happy than with Luna.

A chilling wind whipped at his hair. He blinked, startled for a moment until he turned and saw that there were two sets of glass doors leading onto a balcony. Coming closer, he could see that age had weathered the glass panels. A web of cracks ran over them, and in other sections, the material had shattered completely.

He stepped outside and leaned on the balconies railing. Castelia City was a cluster of light and tall buildings like skeletal fingers rising from the earth. Dense forest surrounded the mansion, and there was a small, winding dirt trial like a coiling snake that directed to the front entrance, where he and his father had first-

He froze. Three police officers marched up the way to the building, their uniforms clear to see even in the darkness.

He ducked, shivering, mouth turning dry. He clenched his fists. They were coming to the mansion.

They were coming for N.

Had they seen him? How had they discovered their location? He risked a peek over the balcony. The police had almost arrived, but if they had noticed N, they made no indication of it.

What was worse, Ghetsis was downstairs. When the police entered the mansion, it would not take long before they found his father. N crawled along the wood, back toward the ballroom, not daring to stand when the police might still see him. Reaching the inside, he scrambled to his feet and began to run, sweat wetting his palms, only to halt himself again. The floorboards. They screamed each time he stepped on the wrong one. The police would hear that, come for him. But Ghetsis needed his help.

He progressed as quickly as he could while still being careful. He grimaced when the wood groaned underneath him like a blaring trumpet. He applied his weight slowly, stepping around those that squeaked the most, finding the ones that did not, inching along step by arduous step, until he came to the spiral staircase and tiptoed down. Voices echoed through the corridors, freezing him in place.

"Put your hands where I can see them! Where is N?"

"There is no one here but myself."

"Bullshit. Dan, search the building. We know he's here."

"On it, boss."

"John, watch the entrance. No one is sneaking out or in on my watch."

"Right."

He came to the bottom of the stairs, huddling with his back against the wall, licking his lips. Footsteps began to creak toward him, closer, closer. What did he do? Where did he go? He had to save Ghetsis, but how? N would only get himself captured if he tried, and with both of them in jail, Team Plasma would lose its sense of direction.

Everything they had worked for would collapse. All because the police had discovered their location.

He squeezed his eyes shut. One of them had to escape. They had already gotten his father. Footsteps were almost on him, next to him. _Father, forgive me! Forgive me!_

N spun into the hallway, meeting face to face with one of the policemen, who staggered back in surprise. In his moment of hesitation, N slammed into him, knocking the man over. His gun clattered to the floor. N kicked it away and ran for the window at the hallway's end.

"Hey! Got him! Got him!"

N tore through the corridor, feet smacking wood. Doors flew past him. The window neared, but it remained intact, not broken by age. N would have to break through.

He glanced behind him. The man had grabbed his gun.

N vaulted into the air, slamming his shoulder into the window. Cold night air flooded over him. A sharp sound cracked in his ears, and it did not come from the breaking window.

He knew that sound. It haunted his dreams, a constant plague on his mind, a herald of death.

He collapsed amid shards of glass glinting in the moonlight. Some dug into his palms, his arms, his knees, but he could barely feel them. Fiery red pain, like a knife had plunged into his skin, burst through his shoulder, radiating down his arm, causing his hands to shake. He scrambled to a stand, hot tears soaking his cheeks, glass cutting his hands, and fled, sprinting into the woods, to the one place where he knew someone could help him. He did not think of the Sages, but of the only kind person he knew.

To Luna._ I will come back for you, father!_

Another explosion broke through the night. Then another. Something whizzed past his ear. He charged into the forest. Soon there were no more gunshots.

He tripped, skidding onto his knees. He cried out, grabbing his shoulder. Warm liquid slid between his fingers.

He groaned, standing. He leaned against a tree, catching his breath, then took a step forward, and another, and another.

_Luna, _he thought. His chest heaved with shaky breaths.

_I must find Luna._


	23. Chapter 22

N collapsed amid the bushes. Sticks snapped underneath his weight. He did not know if he could continue any longer.

Hot sweat coated every pour; shivers raked his body. Pain came in pulses from his shoulder, blurring his vision with tears. _I must find Luna._

He was dimly aware that police officers were chasing him, brought by the distant wailing of sirens, flashlights in hand. They were getting closer; he could hear their shouts and calls. His arms shook as he picked himself to his feet. _Must continue._

The faint, scattered moonlight was his only illumination from which to see. The undergrowth at his feet seemed as hands that gripped his ankles, tripping him, trying to pull him to the ground. The night closed in around him. It was like he walked through a nightmare, progressing forward but never gaining any ground, for his blurred vision could not tell any difference in his surroundings as he went. The shouts grew louder.

Somewhere in the forest was the clearing where he was to meet Luna. Surely she had heard the sirens and gone looking for N. Surely; she could help him. He did not want to go to the Sages, not because he didn't like them, but because he was afraid they would use Ghetsis' disappearance to their advantage, seizing control within Team Plasma. That could not happen, not to his father.

A branch snapped somewhere nearby. N slowed to a standstill, glancing around him, but saw no flashlight to indicate that it was a policeman.

"Luna?" He whispered, voice cracked and hoarse.

There came no response, but N thought he saw something move in the darkness. He squinted. The figure was not human. He saw a towering, erect form, with an arched back, and many wiggling claws near its neck that felt at the air.

A scolipede.

N smiled, wavering on his feet. "Ah, hello there. I am… sorry to disturb you."

_I hunger_, the Pokemon said.

N swallowed hard. His smile faded. He knew that not all Pokemon were friendly, and it was only their nature that some attacked humans."I… see. I apologize. I have no food for you."

_You._

The scolipede skittered toward him. N shouted, falling onto his back, the wound on his shoulder screaming in protest. Legs writhed over him. Mandibles snapped, claws lurched, reaching for him. The weight pinned him to the ground, and he could do nothing as-

Suddenly its body was gone from atop him. A tree splintered and crashed to the ground, falling from the impact of the large Pokemon hitting it. Curled into a ball, scolipede did not rise.

A sawsbuck stood beside N. It stamped a hoof and nodded at him.

He gaped at it. "You saved me," he breathed, grinning, and stretched out a hand to pet the creature.

His arm never went very far. Another figure ran out of the trees, breathing heavily.

N could not believe his eyes. He shook his head, desperately wishing that what he saw was a dream. It did not go away. He blinked once, twice, three times. Still, it was there. _No. No, no, no!_

Luna. With a Pokeball in her hand.

The world spun. _Not Luna. Please, not Luna. She cannot be a trainer._

"N?" She crouched at his side. "You're hurt. Let me help you."

She touched his shoulder. He ripped his arm away, jaw clenched, and glared at her.

"A trainer!" He hissed. "All this time, you have been a trainer!"

_Luna _is_ my trainer_, said a voice in his mind. N whipped his head to gape at sawsbuck. _I would not have it any other way._

N's jaw unhinged. Luna said nothing as she flipped him over onto his stomach and tsked at the wound on his shoulder.

"Sawsbuck, use Aromatherapy, please."

A green mist filled N's vision. To his amazement, the pulsing red pain in his shoulder began to subside. Something tumbled out as the wound closed, and N scrambled to his knees, rolling his shoulder. The cuts searing the flesh of his hands were gone, as well.

"Your sawsbuck…" N whispered.

"Let's go, N," Luna said, standing. "We have to get out of here. They're coming. I can see them from here."

"Why did you not tell me you were a trainer?"

She tried to grab his hand. He pulled away.

"Why, Luna? Why?"

"I promise I'll tell you everything later. Right now, we have to get out of here."

He glanced over his shoulder. The flashlights of police officers shone bright circles on nearby trees.

_Luna is my trainer. I would not have it any other way._

N staggered after her as she and her sawsbuck sprinted away. As he watched her bound alongside her Pokemon, a heavy feeling of sadness welled up within him.

A Pokemon had said something similar to N when he had first arrived at Nimbasa City. He had dismissed it, once, but now another Pokemon had said the same thing. But there was not a single right to being a trainer. N fought against those types of people, had killed someone for that go, and now…

He dodged past trees, fighting to keep sight of Luna, continually glancing over his shoulder. The flashlights were but spots in the distance like a dozen stars shining through an inky black sky. The policemen had not seen or heard them, but they would find the fallen scolipede, and N and Luna had no doubt left a trail in their haste.

When they had a far enough lead that he could barely see the lights at all, Luna pulled him to the side. They both panted hard - N's clothes stuck to his skin - and waited until they regained their breath to speak.

"Where is your father, N?" Luna asked. "They didn't find him, did they?"

N sunk to his knees. "They have captured him, Luna. I do not believe they have ever seen his face, but they knew I was in that house." He buried his face in his hands. "I do not know what to do! What if they torture him? Make him reveal Team Plasma's plans?"

"Don't worry," she said, sitting next to him. Sawsbuck watched the way they had come. "Let me help you, N."

"No," he said, turning away. "Thank you for healing me, but no. Not anymore. The Seven Sages will aid me, Luna; you…"

"I'm a trainer. Yes."

"Why?" He demanded. "Why did you not-"

Luna leaned forward and kissed him. A warmth spread through his chest as though a fire had ignited within it. His cheeks flushed. His eyes went wide. He wanted to pull away but instead melted into her touch. When she did finally release him, he felt an acute sense of longing.

"N," she said, hands on his chest. He was sure she'd be able to feel his raging heartbeat. "I'm sorry. I should have told you, but I didn't want you to think of me differently. Let me show you what being a trainer means."

Her eyes, blue like sunlight shimmering through a pool, pleaded with him. "Please."

Sawsbuck stamped the ground, snorting. The shouts were coming closer.

Luna led N to his feet.

"I can help you save your father," she said, taking his hands. "But the only Pokemon I took with me when I left was sawsbuck. We need to go back to Accumula Town. I don't keep them in the PC, N; I let them stay at my home where they can roam free. Please. Give me another chance."

_She is a trainer_; his thoughts hissed to him. _Father told you all humans were evil, and Luna is no exception to that._

Sawsbuck fidgeted again. The police were almost upon them.

_I can't_, N thought._ I can't! Luna is still Luna_. She was a trainer, but N did not know yet why she chose to take that path. He looked into her eyes. How could such beauty be evil?

A chance. He could not deny the feeling that stirred inside him when he looked at her. She was risking her life to help him. He would give her a chance.

He nodded. They fled further into the night, away from those chasing him. Away from his father.


	24. Chapter 23

Tympole was evolving. King shielded his eyes against the bright glow, grinning. It was about time that one of them evolved; he'd been waiting since Vertress City. He thought it ironic, though, that the last Pokemon he'd gotten was the first to evolve.

The glow began to recede; the gray darkness of the cave seeping back in to take its place, as tympole absorbed the light into itself. A palpitoad croaked and grinned at King. To the side, rufflet cawed happily over the fallen body of a boldore - which were common enough in Twist Mountain - and zorua's head drooped. At least it'd decided to stop being immature and work with the other two Pokemon.

King squatted, nodding to palpitoad. The thing was both powerful and quick to grow. "Nice. Looks like all the training I've done has paid off."

Palpitoad danced in a circle. King grunted and stood, moving past the three Pokemon, plus the fallen boldore.

"Let's go," he said, starting down the narrow tunnel. They follow behind him; rufflet perched on his shoulder. "We're not done training. Not yet."

He rubbed his hands together, blowing on them to try and warm them a little. The passes leading to the mountain had been cold enough as they gained altitude, but now that they were inside, there wasn't any sun to stave off their shivers. The faint light of the torches along the walls, flakes of ash gathering under them, didn't help much, either. Still, he dealt with the cold and the darkness both. Twist Mountain was home to a good number of powerful Pokemon, which meant it was the ideal place for training.

And he was going to train his Pokemon until they dropped. He had lost against that man.

He clenched a fist, fingernails biting into his palm. The pain felt good. He needed to scorn himself for letting his emotions control him while he battled that man. If King had thought about beating conkeldurr rationally, had devised a plan, or had been smarter, to begin with… he could have won.

But there was no changing what happened. All he could do was make sure that next time, that man never thought of looking down on him again.

He progressed further into the heart of the mountain, his Pokemon trailing along beside him. As they went, they fought boldores and gurdurrs, woobats, and cubchoos, and when he came across trainers, he fought as he would for any gym. He would not lose again. Not ever, to anyone.

Rufflet provided a supporting role in their battles against wild Pokemon since he was at a typing disadvantage against most of the things they encountered. At the same time, palpitoad or zorua took the lead. Zorua talked less than it ever had before, which was perfectly fine with King - usually, it distracted him - and worked like there was no tomorrow. Whatever King had done to encourage that level of dedication, it'd worked. Zorua followed each one of its commands, let palpitoad take the lead when needed, and never seemed to get exhausted from training, which King particularly enjoyed. It meant that they could on for a longer period, meaning more experience that would make the third gym that much easier.

He only decided to stop when rufflet got hit with a rock tomb, and King fumbled through his pack, realizing that he was out of potions, even though he bought close to thirty.

He cursed. The boldore they were fighting rumbled toward them. Zorua transformed into conkeldurr and took the force of the blow as boldore crashed into it. A stream of bubbles from palpitoad smashed into boldore, causing the rock-type to topple over on its side with a thump. Zorua morphed back to its original form when boldore didn't move.

King zipped his pack, slung it over his shoulders, and picked rufflet up, who had fainted. The bird was limp in his hand.

He looked around. There were boulders scattered from when boldore had used rock tomb.

"Listen, zorua," he said. It turned to look at him. "Transform back into conkeldurr and pick up some of these rocks. Put them on either side of us. That'll block off the tunnel so that Pokemon don't disturb us. We're taking a break for the night, which, by now, it probably is."

Zorua transformed without a word and started to do as King asked. Once zorua finished, King set out some food for it and palpitoad, and placed a bowl in front of rufflet, as well, for when it woke, then leaned his back against the rock wall.

He closed his eyes, crossing his arms and listening to the sound of his Pokemon munching on what he'd given them.

His breathing slowed, the cold air rushing through his nostrils. On their way to Twist Mountain, King had come across a couple fighting over a Pokeball. The girl had declared that using Pokemon was wrong and proceeded to chuck the device into the forest.

King found his thoughts going back to that. People were starting to believe the ideals of that N. Riots were breaking out in some of the major cities like Nimbasa and Castelia, where King used to live, led by some nobodies called Team Plasma. How could people believe such rubbish? Once N got caught, though, it would all end, and King could continue his gym challenge in peace. Not that N's little uprising had affected him in any meaningful way yet. If King had been a day later in challenging Drayden's gym, though, maybe he could have been there to save the older man. Or, more likely, he would be dead, too.

That didn't matter; his focus was on completing the gym challenge. Once he acquired the eight gym badges, he would move on to the Pokemon league and become Champion. That man would have an ulcer when the Elite Four gave King the title.

When he eventually fell asleep, he dreamed of walking up a vast set of marble stairs. At the top, they put a crown on his head and declared him Champion, and when he turned around, that man stood at the foot of the stairs with his mouth open, aghast that King had become better than he ever was.


	25. Chapter 24

Striaton City was a place of markets and shops. Of people filled with laughter as they went about their daily tasks. A ring of brightly colored autumns trees that danced in the wind surrounded the tall buildings of the city, and the land was warm under a sparkling sun and cloudless sky. N could not have asked for a more perfect day, which was only made better by a beautiful Luna next to him. If only she had not exposed the fact she was a trainer, even if it was to save his life against scolipede. If only the police had not captured Ghetsis. No doubt they had thrown in him in jail like a common criminal. If only.

Luna looked at him and smiled. She held out her hand, and N glanced at it reluctantly. _She is a trainer._ She captured Pokemon and abused them, the same as all the others. The wind brought the sweet, fruity smell of her perfume to his nose.

A chance. Maybe, for now, he could force himself to forget the path she had chosen. She was still Luna.

He took her hand in his, feeling her soft fingers. Together, they started down the city sidewalk. A cacophony of bustling chatter filled N's ears as they went, passing by a countless amount of people. N had his hat pulled low to shadow his face, and his hair stuffed under it. No one was like to recognize him.

"Do you remember when we first met?" Luna said through a smirk. "You walked into the store with such a confused look when the owner asked you what you wanted."

She giggled at the blush that bloomed on his cheeks. "Yes, I remember. I… have not had much contact with the outside world."

"Well." She hugged his arm. "It's a good thing, too; otherwise, you wouldn't have ordered the same thing I was eating. Maybe it was fate."

"Perhaps," he laughed. "Though, I don't think my father saw it that way when we met in Vertress City."

They turned a corner and came upon a large market square filled with the smells of an array of foods for sale. Luna turned to him and frowned.

"Why do you let him control you so much, N?" She asked. "You're your own man. Can't you let yourself be free?"

He shook his head. "He is my father, Luna. I cannot simply leave him; and he always knows what is best for both myself and Team Plasma. I must go back to him. If you will help me."

She poked him in the ribs. "Of course I'm going to, but he knows what's best for you? Come on."

He wrapped his arms around her waist, grinning. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," she said, snuggling against him. Her warmth was like nothing he had ever felt before. "That I think you know what's best without needing anyone to tell you."

She kissed him on the cheek. The fact that she was a trainer vanished from his mind. She seemed to him more radiant than the sun, and he never wanted to let go of her, not even if she was the most powerful trainer in the world.

"If only you didn't have to hide your face in public," she said.

"It is what I have chosen, Luna. Pokemon must be free, and in the pursuit of that, I have become a criminal. Remember, I…"

She put a finger to his lips to quiet him, then wriggled out of his grasp.

"What are you doing?" He asked, pouting.

She began to pull him along. "Come on; there's something I want to show you."

"Ah. How unusual."

She grinned.

She led him further into the city, weaving through the streets and crowds of people. At one point, Luna brightened like a small child at the sight of an ice cream stand. Since N could not risk having the people recognize him, she ran to the stall and bought something for them both. N thanked her profusely when she returned, but sweet treats were not what she wanted to show him.

After almost an hour of walking and chatting, which felt like no more than five minutes to N, they came to a winding dirt path that pointed away from the city. Birdlike Pokemon chirped around them as they started up the trail, flanked on either side by flourishing trees of vibrant color.

N turned to Luna, meaning to ask where she intended to take him when she took an entire bite out of her ice cream. N stared in horror; she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Luna… I may not be the most worldly individual," he said, "but I am sure you were not supposed to bite that."

"Why not?" She asked, clearly amused with him.

N started at his ice cream. Biting it? Surely that would give immeasurable amounts of brain freeze.

Luna laughed and patted him on the arm.

Ahead of them, a two-story building painted a light-green, rose into view. A white fence surrounded it on both sides, and N thought he could hear the laughter of small children. By the time they arrived, Luna had finished biting her ice cream, and N licking his.

"What is this place, Luna?" He asked.

"This," she said, "is the Trainers School. I think they've just about started recess."

He frowned. "Luna…"

"Trust me, N," she said. "I wouldn't bring you anywhere I thought you wouldn't like."

They stepped up to the front of the building. Luna smiled at him reassuringly, but he still felt hesitant as she opened the door and led him through. A golden bell jingled about their heads.

He stepped into a white-walled classroom with two hallways exiting to the right and left. An older woman peeked her head out from one of them, then laid her eyes on Luna and gasped.

"Hi, Granny!" Luna exclaimed. They ran to one another and hugged, so tight N wondered how either could breathe. Perhaps they couldn't, but neither seemed to notice or care.

"Luna," the woman said after a prolonged moment, releasing her. N stood awkwardly by the door, shifting on his feet. "It's so good to see you! So good! You're well, yes? Oh, how long will you be staying?"

"I'm fine, Granny, I'm fine," Luna laughed. "Here: let me introduce you to someone."

"Ooh, who is this handsome young man?"

Their attention turned to N. His breath caught in his throat, and he tried to use his eyes to plead with Luna. What if this woman knew who he was?

"This is Daniel," Luna said. "My boyfriend."

He blinked.

The woman came to him and took his hand, shaking it in both of hers. "Look how handsome! I'm Stella, but you can just call me Granny. Everyone does."

He smiled, blushing at her comment. "Ah… It is great to meet you, Granny. My name is Daniel, as Luna mentioned."

"Where are the kids, Granny?" Luna asked.

She released his hands and waved them through one of the two hallways. "Oh! Come, come. They are all out back enjoying a bit of rest from classes."

Luna skipped after Granny, ushering N to follow. He came beside her and whispered into her ear. "How do you know this woman?"

"I used to go to this school," Luna explained. "Granny is the teacher here."

"Ah," N said, falling into place at her side. Granny led them through the school, and eventually out into the backyard, encircled by the white fence.

N let the two go out before him, then found himself frozen in the doorway. There were children everywhere, innocent smiles plastered on their faces, but it was more than that. They did not play only with one another but also with Pokemon. Zoruas and lillipups, blitzles, and cubchoos. Dancing, jumping. Laughing. N could not believe his eyes. It was not what he had done, what he had seen, as a child - the Pokemon N had observed as he aged had all been abused or killed by people.

Many of the children screamed with excitement when they saw Luna. The way they hugged her, N thought she must have come to the school regularly.

"Why do you look so shocked, Daniel?" Granny asked at his side.

"Forgive me. I have never seen Pokemon so happy," he said. "It is… not what I imagined."

"Maybe that is the reason dear Luna brought you here."

N shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"I know who you are, N."

He stumbled back. He looked to the fence. _That is why this place is enclosed. To keep me in. Can I jump-_

Granny laughed and laid a hand on his arm. "Don't worry, don't worry. Luna has told me all about you and what a good person you are. She didn't want you to be angry with her, so she called me beforehand and told me to pretend I didn't know who you were. She should know by know how awful I am at keeping up a facade."

N breathed, unknitting the tension in his shoulders. He looked at Luna, rolling in the grass with the children and Pokemon, uncaring if her clothes became stained with dirt.

"I believe," Granny continued, "that Luna wished to show you that people and Pokemon live in a state of harmony, where both are happy. This applies to more than with children, N dear. The bond between Pokemon and trainer is one of growth."

"That cannot be true. As a child, I saw many Pokemon abused and tortured by people. I could never forgive that."

Granny sighed, and N could see a deep sadness in her eyes. "A terrible exception, but a reality nonetheless. Some of us humans are animals, but that does not mean we all are, dear N. Just as not all Pokemon are friendly. Do you believe the Pokemon are truly better off in the wild where they must eat or be eaten by another," she flicked her head toward Luna and the children. "Or in places like this one, where they are happy and are given food and shelter by us. They may occasionally injure one another in battle, but they are taken care of, and it is far worse in the wild."

Luna noticed him staring and waved him over. Granny nudged him on.

"Go on, dear," she said. "You've had enough of my babbling. Why don't you go experience it for yourself?"

"You do not see," N whispered. His heart clenched in his chest.

"What do you mean, dear?"

"You can't be right. What I am seeing cannot be real. If… if it is…" He swallowed hard. "That would mean I took a life for nothing."

"Oh, sweet N." Granny gave his arm a comforting squeeze. "What you did was wrong, yes. I think you know that, but you can be forgiven."

Tears welled in his eyes. His words came out choked. "Can I? Can I really?"

"Luna already has forgiven you. You must take responsibility for what you've done and understand why you made the mistake that you did. Only then might you forgive yourself."

She nudged him on again. Luna sat waiting while the children gave him curious looks. Perhaps they would not recognize him for who he was. Maybe he could… let loose. _Luna has already forgiven you. Now it is time to acknowledge your mistake, then forgive yourself._

He jogged toward them. In the back of his mind, his father's capture was still there, but it seemed as though a distant memory. It was not as though he didn't want to save his father, but as he joined Luna, he left all that he had been feeling in the doorway.

For once, if only for a moment, he lived his life without a care.


	26. Chapter 25

Ghetsis examined the burnt, black skin of his right arm. He often found himself doing so as he considered the changes Unova was undergoing. Changes brought by N, yes, but always N had danced to Ghetsis' whims like a puppet on strings, and it was still certainly no different. That was the only reason Ghetsis had raised the boy.

He shoved his arm into the sleeve of his robe, turning on a heel. For the first time in his life, however, N had gone missing. Ghetsis thought it a shame that he had had to wait until N had fled the mansion before using Pokemon, or otherwise risk the boy finding out he was a trainer. _The fool probably assumes the police captured me._

The door into the palace throne room creaked open, pushed by two loyal Team Plasma members, and six robed figures strode inward, footfalls echoing. Ghetsis stepped down the dais to meet them as the doors thumped to a close.

"My Lord Ghetsis," said Rood, touching a hand to his chest and bowing. It was about time the man started showing some proper respect. "Our scouts from Team Plasma have reported that N has arrived in Accumula Town."

Ghetsis scowled. The other sages dipped their heads in his direction, then scattered around the room to find their seats. "What is he doing in that putrid little place?"

"I could not say, My Lord," said Rood. "I do know, however, that he is traveling with that girl. Luna… I believe N said her name was?"

Ghetsis' frown deepened. Blasted girl. He didn't know who she was - didn't care - but she was constantly interfering in his plans. She was a cutiefly that he had to swat away continuously. If she would not buzz off like the insect she was, then there was only one course of action Ghetsis could take.

She would have to die.

"She must have manipulated the fool somehow," Ghetsis said. "We will have to use the Shadow Triad."

Rood bowed to his knees. "As you wish, My Lord Ghetsis."

"Be seated, Rood." The man scurried off at Ghetsis' command. It had been a long while since Ghetsis used the Shadow Triad, especially for murder, but they were a useful tool when he needed them.

He unfolded his arms and reached into his robe, pulling out three Pokeballs. He released them, and when the white glow had subsided, three zoroarks knelt on the marble floor, ready to do his bidding.

"Transform into the Shadow Triad," he ordered them. Again, a white glow cast out the darkness of the room, this time as the three applied the illusion. When they finished, no more were there three zoroarks kneeling, but instead three humans with white hair; their faces covered by black masks.

"I have a task for you," Ghetsis said. The pleasing thing about Pokemon proved to be that they were too ignorant to betray him, or even disobey a single order. "My son has escaped my grasp and is currently on his way to Accumula Town with some blond-haired bimbo of a girl. You are to kill this girl… but do not bring N back to me. He must think you are evil, and not that there is any connection between you and I. Punish him, but only a little, for your primary target is the girl."

"Ah, My Lord?" Came a squeaky voice. Ghetsis glared to the side, where Gorm - the worm that he was - had stood. If not for his intelligence, Ghetsis would have banished him long ago. "Y-you seek to, ah, kill her? Surely there is another-"

"Silence, Gorm. That is the course of action I am taking."

Gorm gulped, shifting on his feet. The man reminded Ghetsis of a rat. "Will Lorn N not be consumed by grief over this? That girl is his, ah, friend, as I recall."

"Don't pretend as if you know him," Ghetsis snapped. "And no. If anything, it will make him hate humans, even more, meaning he will be more dedicated to his goal than ever.

Ghetsis turned back to the Shadow Triad. Gorm plopped himself back in his chair, where he belonged.

"You must not reveal you are Pokemon," Ghetsis said. "This girl is not a trainer, otherwise dear N would never associate with her, so it shall be easy. And for god sake's hide those tails of yours when you go: they stay even when you transform. So, go in, kill the girl, harm N a small bit, enough to make him think you are not only there to kill the girl. Am I clear?"

The three nodded.

"Then go," Ghetsis said. They vanished into shadow, slinking away as if they'd become one with the inky darkness. Zoroarks could do a great many things no human would ever be able to.

He looked around the room, spotting Zinzolin in the far corner. Ghetsis waved the short man over to him. He came reluctantly; he had always been an insubordinate one, but fear of Ghetsis' strength as a trainer kept the man in line. Moreover, it was greed for more power that drove Zinzolin. Ghetsis could offer him that, once all the pieces on the board were set.

"What do you need, My Lord?" He grumbled.

Ghetsis cleared his throat. "You will tell me of what progress you have made on that task of yours."

As Zinzolin began to speak, Ghetsis listened with half an ear, thinking of N. The boy would know what it meant to oppose Ghetsis, even if he had not done it intentionally. He had left Ghetsis, and that was enough. Once that girl lay in a pool of her blood, cold and lifeless, N would come crawling back to him, looking for a savior, and Ghetsis would appear. As always. He would make sure that N was as firmly under his grip as ever. Until the time came for the structure of the world to collapse, it would be so.


	27. Chapter 26

The floorboards creaked under N's feet. Orange sunlight trickled through the windows, splaying out on the wooden flooring. He closed the door to Luna's home behind him with a click.

She, already having gone inside, spun to face him, folding her hands at waist level behind her back. She smiled. "So? What do you think?"

Her smile was contagious as he looked about his surroundings. To his right was a staircase leading to the second floor, and to his left, a small, tiled kitchen with walls painted a washed-out yellow. Where Luna stood was the living room, with the few leather couches and coffee tables, and a fireplace and TV at one wall. The home was not large by any means, but it felt homey and smelled of Luna.

He walked to her and brushed his thumbs along her soft cheeks, then kissed her on the lips. "It's wonderful, Luna. Do you pay for this all on your own?"

She shook her head. "When my parents passed away," she had told N of the incident on their way to the town, and he had almost come to tears at the story, "they'd already made a will, and, since I'm an only child, gave me the house."

"I'm sorry for their passing," N said, holding her close to him and frowning. "It must have been incredibly hard for you."

"Thank you, N, but we're here now to make sure one of your parents is alright, remember?" She snickered. "Or did you already forget?"

He looked at her, where she stared up at him, chin almost touching his chest, arms wrapped on his waist. He did not want to admit it, but his travels with Luna had been so much fun that he almost _had_ forgotten. Not quite enough that the thought didn't tickle the back of his mind while they laughed and joked, but still, it was the reason they had come to Accumula Town.

But when they went again to Castelia City and rescued Ghetsis, he would never allow Luna to come close. Thoughts about her during the day and surreptitious meetings in the darkness would have to suffice. And he would have to go back to working on his goal - to being the face of Team Plasma.

He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. "Of course, I have not forgotten. I just… maybe we could stay here tomorrow, and leave the next day? I want to relish these moments with you before my father… well, takes them away. I still haven't gotten to see you paint, remember? You promised you would show me."

Her face lit with surprise. "Oh! That's right. I completely forgot." She unlatched herself from him. "Stay here; I'll go get my things. We can go outside where the Pokemon are."

N opened his mouth, meaning to say that he would aid her in carrying something, but she was already rushing up the steps to the second floor. He scratched his temple and sat on one of the brown leather couches, then folding his hands in his lap.

From his position, he could look out the window and see the sun dipping below the distant tree line, blazing the sky with oranges and reds in its final hour. As he watched it, he thought of what Granny had said to him, what the Pokemon who played with the children had said, and what Luna's sawsbuck had made clear. _The bond between Pokemon and trainer is one of growth. We're happy here. Luna is my trainer; I would not have it any other way._

N leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. He took off his hat, letting his hair stream loose around him, and put it on the couch to his side.

If what they all said was true, what had N been fighting for? Why was he only now beginning to see that Pokemon could be content? After the Vertress Tournament had ended, and N saw how such a nasty person as King, who thought of Pokemon as nothing more than tools, had won, N had been more affirmed than ever in his want to free Pokemon. He was not so sure anymore. Was King the exception? Or were people like Luna, who treated her Pokemon wonderfully, the exception? He did not know. He did not know anything anymore, except that he wanted to spend more time with Luna. So that was what he was going to do. If she would let him stay for a little while longer, that was.

He stood, walking to the stairs. She was taking an awfully long time. _Perhaps she needs my help, after all?_

"Luna?" He called. His voice sounded too loud in the quiet home. There was no answer.

He stepped on the first stair. It groaned under his foot.

A face appeared at the top of the stairs. N blinked as Luna grinned at him.

"One moment!" She said. N took his foot from the step and settled with his back against the wall. A minute later, Luna wiggled an easel and canvas down the stairs.

N's eyes widened. "Are you positive you don't want my help?"

"Yes," she said, arriving at the bottom. N realized that she was wearing a different dress, short in length, and yellow with printed pink flowers. That must have been what took her so long. She was finding something else to wear.

"That makes you look very nice," N said, moving out of her way.

She chuckled, setting the easel by the door. "I do love your awkward compliments."

N smiled as she opened the door. "Come on, let me-"

He trailed off.

A man was standing in the doorway. Luna gasped in surprise, holding a hand over her mouth. N stepped protectively beside her. He had hair nearly as long as N's, bleached as white as the sun from space. N could not see his features; a black mask covered his face. He stood where the shadow of the house draped along the ground, and it seemed as though he and the shadow were the same.

"Who are you?" N demanded. The man did not respond but stepped into the house. N's chest suddenly felt like a lump of ice.

One moment N stood there, looking at the man, and the next, he was sprawled out on the wooden floor, dull, gray pain thudding against his head as if someone had hit him with a hammer. The easel clattering to the ground was a distant echo in his ears.

He tried to scramble to his feet, vision blurry. His legs felt like rubber. He fell to the floor again, crying out.

Luna stood with her back against the wall: a bright ray of yellow sunshine. Three shadows crept toward her, loomed over her. Prepared to attack her.

"Luna!" N croaked.

And suddenly, sawsbuck was there.

He thrashed with sharp antlers, sending one of the men sprawling against the wall. White light engulfed the man, and when he fell, he was no longer human, but Pokemon. A zoroark. N blinked, not believing the truth of what his blurry vision saw.

Green mist, smelling of flowers, filled his nostrils. His vision cleared, and the dull aching behind his forehead subsided.

"N!" Luna shouted. "Go get my other Pokemon outside! I'll be fine!"

He shot to a stand. Sawsbuck nodded.

N did not want to. He couldn't leave Luna.

"Go!"

He clenched his jaw, forcing his feet to move, and charged for the doorway. The fading light of the day greeted him when a person abruptly stood blocking his way. The man reeled back an arm, a dark ball of energy forming in his hand. _This one is a zoroark as well!_

N ducked, throwing his arms over his head. The energy coursed above him, and he heard sawsbuck cry out. The move had hit him instead of N.

N roared, charging toward the transformed zoroark. They collided, tumbling onto the porch outside. N did not want to hurt a Pokemon, but he would do what he needed to protect Luna.

They hit the floor hard - pain shot through his elbow and arm. The transformation faded, and he struggled with a zoroark instead of a man.

The Pokemon screeched, trying to writhe a way out of N's grip, but he wrapped his arms around its chest and held tight. Zoroark squirmed and kicked, clawing at N's sides. He clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut. _Until Luna and Sawsbuck can defeat the other two, I must hold on!_

Zoroark's teeth sunk into his shoulder. It yanked, ripping out the flesh in a spray of blood. N screamed, all his strength gone in an instant. Zoroark used that to his advantage, kicking N in the stomach with sturdy legs. His world spun, his breath escaping him, as the Pokemon managed to be free of him. He tumbled to the floor, hot blood slipping between his fingers as he clutched his shoulder.

Zoroark vanished inside the house. Cold sweat covered N. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. Instead, he clambered to his feet. Luna was in danger.

He staggered through the doorway. And froze.

He did not see Luna and sawsbuck, fighting in the cramped room against the three invaders. He saw a field of swaying yellow flowers; the warmth of the sun spreading through him, the same feeling felt under Luna's caress. He smelled the flowers. Tasted the air. Felt the wind. But his mind rebelled against the striking image. It was an illusion.

A claw raked his face. He screamed, stumbling back, and the illusion was gone. Over the shoulder of a zoroark, through the bloodied fingers he held to his stinging face, he saw sawsbuck, struggling. Saw as its head was sliced from its body, as antler and fur tumbled, eyes lifeless, blood spurting. He heard Luna scream in horror.

The wall burst as if a bomb had set off inside it, cutting off her cry. The sound of shattering glass and broken wood was deafening. The zoroark in front of N whipped around and hissed as a haxorus charged in, feet crunching on splintered material.

It roared, throwing its head back. The zoroarks all attacked at once, not a moment of hesitation in their gliding movements.

_Take Luna_, said a voice in his head. _Protect her. You must. I will handle the zoroarks._

N stumbled inward, holding a hand to his face. Luna stood in the corner, jaw, and fists clenched, as pale as snow. Panting, N came up beside her, dodging the fighting.

"N," she whispered. "They killed sawsbuck. Oh god, you're hurt, N. You're hurt."

One of the zoroarks crashed against the wall. The other two screeched. N shook his head.

"I am fine." He took her hand. "We must leave. That is your haxorus? She will take care of it for us!"

"Wait!" Luna shouted. "Look!"

A turquoise ball of energy sent one of the zoroarks through a wall and out onto the grass. N saw that more Pokemon were running toward the house, hopping over a nearby fence that kept them in.

The zoroarks saw it as well, and their fallen comrade. They began to back away, hissing. A triumphant cry from haxorus pierced N's eardrums.

They fled out the door.

N breathed. "It's over. Are you hurt, Luna? Did they hurt you?"

"You're the one whose hurt!" She said. Her eyes fell on sawsbuck. "I don't have another Pokemon that can heal, N. We have to take you to a hospital, there's no other…"

The lids of N's eyes peeled back. A shadow loomed behind Luna.

She looked at N in horror. "What is it?"

A black and red claw pierced through Luna's chest.

N did not even have time to scream as she dropped to the floor, and the zoroark vanished. The one who had splintered through the wall.

N looked down. There was a hole in Luna's dress. Where zoroark had plunged a claw through. A pool of blood seeped around her, staining the strings of her blond hair red.

He blinked. He looked to haxorus, who roared louder than it had before. For some reason, it sounded full of sorrow, and when other Pokemon began to enter, they too called and cried.

He blinked. He dropped to his knees and nudged Luna's shoulder. She did not move. "Luna?"

He blinked. The blood squelched as he rolled Luna over on her back. He looked into her eyes. Those weren't Luna's eyes. Hers were bright and filled with life, not gray and stale. Not colorless. Not empty.

Gone.

His throat clamped shut, squeezed by an invisible hand. His hands shook. His heart screamed as it became heavy with pain. The gears of his mind began to work, processing what he saw.

"No, no, no, no!"

There was a void in her chest - a gaping crevice where her heart should have been. N clutched her hand in both of his. Touched his lips to hers. Everything was cold. A freezing chill had covered his body.

Luna was dead.

He screamed in echo with the Pokemon, laying his head on her. Tears poured from his eyes as he wailed, beating his fist against the floor. All the pain of his wounds vanished. There was only a great ache in his heart, like a beast trying to crawl from his chest.

Luna was dead. Luna was dead. Luna was dead. Luna was dead.

He did not know how long he sat there. Days. Weeks. Months. Long after the light of the sun had seeped away, and the blackness of night encroached around him. His tears did not stop until his head ached, and his mind turned to numbness. At times, he found himself brushing her hair away from her face, staring into her eyes, believing that at any moment, their light would return. It did not. And when it didn't, the light inside of N - the happiness he had felt when with her, like nothing else he'd ever experienced - dimmed to nothing as well.

He was dimly aware when a large body curled around him and Luna. Haxorus nudged his head gently and placed something beside him. A Pokeball. N wept himself to sleep by haxorus' side, knowing what she wanted N to do with the Pokeball, for she told him so in his head. Her voice was a distant echo as he drifted into a fitful sleep of nightmares, where black and red Pokemon plagued the land, lurking in every shadow.

Where he would be sitting beside Luna as she painted, only to have her ripped away from him.


	28. Chapter 27

The Mistralton City gym - a re-purposed airplane hanger - rose above King, blocking out the sun. The engine of a plane roared from behind him as it took off, the turbines causing his hair to toss about. The sound faded into the distance as he stared at the building. Thankfully, there were no people around to ask him why he'd been standing there minute after minute: Mistralton City was almost as small as Icirrus, and that place looked like it was a village out of a fantasy novel.

He'd prepared himself day and night for his third gym battle, trained until his Pokemon were collapsing from exhaustion. He would not lose, not ever again. Still, as he stood there, tapping his foot, hands in his pockets, he hesitated. What if his Pokemon weren't ready yet? What if he hadn't trained them enough?

He took a step back. _Maybe I'll catch another one. Just to make sure._

No. King shook his head. It was now or never.

He went into the gym.

The inside was more extensive than both the gym in Opelucid and Icirrus; the floor white and shined to the point where he could see his reflection on its surface. It reminded him of a school gymnasium, other than the fact that the ceiling was open to reveal the puffed clouds on a blue sky beyond.

A flicker of movement in the corner caught his eye. Apparently, the gym leader had heard him come in, for she stepped out of a doorway and skipped toward him.

_Well. She's certainly a cheery one_, he mused, stopping next to the large Pokeball marked on the floor and raising an eyebrow.

She was young - probably around his age - and wearing some sort of modified pilot attire that exposed her tan midsection. King recalled her name as Skyla - fitting enough for a flying-type gym. When she got close enough, she suddenly froze mid-skip and balked at him.

His eyebrow raised further. "Right… I know I'm handsome, but this is a bit much."

She ran to him. "No! Wow, your hair is the same color as mine!" He frowned as she ran a gloved hand through his hair. "How cool is that? I've only ever met one other person with our crimson locks!"

"Yeah," he said, "could you not touch my head, though?"

She giggled and danced to the other side of the Pokeball. _Jeez, she's almost as immature as zorua. How it was back when it talked, anyway._

"You came for a battle, right?" She took a Pokeball from her waist and threw it. It was one of two at her waist. "Let's go, emolga!"

The white and yellow rodent appeared and glided around in a circle. King frowned. "We need a ref?"

Skyla cleared her throat. "Each person can use a maximum of four Pokemon," she said, making her voice deeper to somehow mimic that of a referee. "The first to faint all of their opponents Pokemon wins! Only the challenger can substitute!"

She grinned at him, hands on hips. "Good, right?"

"You didn't even ask how many gym badges I have."

"Two!" She pumped an arm in the air. "Come on, let's do this! Send out your Pokemon!"

How does she… He shook his head. It didn't matter. The battle was starting.

He grabbed one of his three Pokeballs, tossing it in the air and catching it. He set his feet. "You're up, palpitoad."

Skyla didn't wait a single moment. As soon as palpitoad has its feet on the ground, she called out a move.

"Emolga, Acrobatics!"

The Pokemon was a blur as it darted for palpitoad.

"Bubble Be-"

Emolga hit. Palpitoad staggered back, crying out. Emolga flew back into the air.

King clenched a fist. _A quick start. _

"Bubble Beam!"

Palpitoad shook itself as bubbles formed at its mouth, that shot out in a quick-moving stream.

Emolga disappeared, dodging the attack. King cursed, looking around, only for it to appear again a moment later, then vanish, then appear. Palpitoad's bubbles popped against the wall. Emolga was using Agility without Skyla ever telling to do so.

"Emolga, Acrobatics!"

"Uproar!"

Emolga reeled back, stopping its flight as the bulges on palpitoad began to tremble. King threw his hands over his ears.

Over the loud, high-pitched noise emitted by palpitoad; he didn't know if Skyla had called a move or not, but a yellow screen encased around emolga. Light Screen.

Palpitoad's attack subsided. King pulled his hands away from his ears.

"Emolga, Acrobatics!"

_Dammit. Again. _He acted quickly, moving before the attack could strike. He held out palpitoad's Pokeball and returned it.

Skyla pouted as emolga flew through empty air. King switched palpitoad's Pokeball for rufflet's, then sent it out. It squawked a challenge at emolga.

"Emolga, Volt Switch!"

Again, he swapped out rufflet for palpitoad. Skyla frowned as the ball of electricity from Volt Switch zapped over King's head.

"Well, what was the point of that? Emolga, Acrobatics!"

"Foul Play!"

Palpitoad - or, zorua - leaped, catching emolga in its mouth despite how fast it was going. Zorua transformed and slammed emolga on the ground.

It cried out. Wind from above stirred through the arena.

"Wow!" Skyla exclaimed. "That's smart of you."

Emolga flew into the air.

"Alright, emolga, Volt Switch!"

"Dark Pulse!"

King expected the two moves to collide, but emolgas never came, and zorua's attack instead streaked into the sky. A cry from zorua pulled his attention back down.

Emolga had used Acrobatics. Even when Skyla called Volt Switch.

"How is this happening?" King demanded.

Skyla shrugged, smiling. "Who knows?"

He wiped his palm against the leg of his pants. Nothing he did was working. He needed a new-

Emolga flew toward zorua, moving so fast King could barely see. He opened his mouth to call out Foul Play, but without the queue from Skyla to notify him, he wasn't quick enough. Zorua tried to dodge. It failed as emolga crashed into it.

Zorua yelped, falling back. It struggled to stand, teeth gritted, feet wobbly. King took its Pokeball, meaning to have it return, when it ran forward, using Extrasensory over and over into the air, missing all of them aimed at emolga.

"Zorua!" King shouted. "Get your ass back here!" It ignored.

After it had begun to obey him so well, of course, of course, it stopped during a gym battle. He couldn't look as emolga slammed into zorua again and again, hitting each one of its moves and dodging every one of zoruas. Stupid fucking…

His nails bit into his palm. Control your anger. Control your anger.

Zorua fainted. King growled, holding out its Pokeball, returning it, and sending out palpitoad.

"Come on!" Skyla said. "This is fun!"

They continued to battle.

Palpitoad ended up fainting from Acrobatics.

King, panting, sent out his rufflet. It squared off with emolga in the air, both of them colliding at times.

Sweat dripped down King's face. His throat was hoarse from screaming out orders. A lump sat in his throat. He knew what was going to happen.

He was going to lose.

Emolga hit rufflet with Volt Switch. It tumbled to the ground, cawing, not moving so much as a single muscle as it fell in a heap to the found.

He lost. Again.

He sunk to his knees, knocking them against the cold, hard ground. He tilted his head back, watching the gusts of wind pull the clouds across the sky.

His father was right. King wasn't good enough.

Skyla came over to him. "You did really well! But… you're missing something. Something very important that every trainer needed. Come back and battle me again once you've found it."

"What?" He croaked. "What could I possibly be missing?"

She giggled and walked away. It flared the temper inside him. "That's for you to find out!"

He stood and went over to rufflet, returning it to its Pokeball. No. He would not let his father be right. He was good enough. He _was._ He could be a trainer.

He already knew what he needed to do.

Teach his Pokemon more discipline.


	29. Chapter 28

King stormed through the Pokemon Center door. The few people scattered around the inside flashed him wary looks, and the nurse behind the counter raised a hand to her mouth. He ignored them.

Grinding his teeth, he loped to the counter, and one by one slammed his Pokeballs down.

"Heal them," he demanded. The nurse's eyes widened.

"O-oh, I'm-"

"Heal them!"

She scrambled to pick them all into her arms, then fled into the back room. King glared at the other people. They looked away.

Something had broken inside him. The tight, iron lock that he kept around his temper, slowly becoming more and more chipped over the years, was gone. God damn zorua. King would show it what happened when it decided to sabotage his gym battle. He would explain yo all three of them what it meant to disappoint their trainer.

The nurse returned, and he promptly snatched the Pokeballs from her grasp and left the Pokemon Center. His vision was blurry with rage. The wind bit at his face, pushing against him, trying to slow him. He didn't stop. He went straight through the town to the outskirts, where the mountains loomed above like jagged teeth. He searched their gray faces and found the gaping black hole hidden among the trees.

Chargestone Cave.

The sunlight vanished as he went inside. The rocks shone with a hue of blue light, electricity zapping, and sparking within and between them. A chilling cold filled the air. Echoes sounded in the distance.

He followed the noises, progressing deeper into the mountain.

He found no Pokemon, and he didn't seem to be getting any closer to the sounds. That angered him even more. Where were they? Hiding from him? The world, it seemed, was determined to prevent him from becoming a great trainer. He wouldn't let it stand in his way. His father was not right. _He isn't!_

King yelled, slamming a fist against the rock wall. His voice reverberated back to his ears. Brown, aching pain bruised through his knuckled. It felt good.

When the echo of his yell faded, another sound took its place. The scuttling of feet, like a thousand legs running and skittering along the floor and the walls, coming for him. He smiled a manic grin that peeled across his face to his ears. The Pokemon had decided to stop being cowards and face him.

The noise grew louder, raging in King's ears, until a dozen galvantula and joltik swarmed the ceiling and the walls, chittering, and fidgeting, blocking him in a tight circle. It was a shame; he had been hoping for more of them.

He released all of his Pokemon at once. Zorua, rufflet, and palpitoad, all of them appearing in a line. Rufflet cawed, ready for a challenge. Palpitoad looked around, a placid expression on its face. Zorua set its feet, prepared. It didn't so much as glance at King.

He commanded them to fight.

Sparks of electricity like small bolts of lightning cracked through the air, snaking this way and that. King made his Pokemon take the hits. He'd never bought more potions, and so there was no healing them. No matter how many times rufflet was knocked down by an electric-type move, or zorua and palpitoad by a bug-type, King forced them to keep going. One by one, the galvantulas began to curl their legs to their bodies as they fell, too injured to keep going.

Rufflet was the first of his Pokemon to faint. King cursed the useless thing as it toppled to a sprawl on the ground.

Palpitoad was next, cornered by three galvantulas, attacked by a swarm of bug-type moves. It cried and fell face first.

And then it was only zorua left against them, the three galvantulas. Zorua was panting hard, exhaustion setting in.

"Dark Pulse," King shouted. Zorua stumbled to the side, not responding. He glared at it.

"I said Dark Pulse! Use it! Now!"

Three bolts of electricity knocked zorua down. Rage bubbled within King as the Pokemon cried out. He stomped over to it.

A bundle of black and red fur wobbling to its feet. It wouldn't obey him. His heard slammed in his ears, a beating drum. Faster. Louder. Why wouldn't it obey him?

He shouted. "You useless sack of shit!"

His foot moved on its own, thumping into zorua's stomach, punting it against the wall. Electricity from the galvantulas zapped it. Still, it stood and glared at King.

I've tried to become good enough for you, said that familiar voice in King's head. He clenched his jaw.

_I've tried to examine what it means to be mature because you told me I shouldn't be immature any longer. All I've ever wanted is for a trainer to love me! That's all! Is it so much to ask for, King? Is it? You push me and rufflet and palpitoad to the extreme every day, and now you're kicking me? You're acting just like that man in Icirrus City! I hear things in my Pokeball! He's your father, right? You despise him, right? You act just like him! Maybe you should be the one to become a little more mature!_

King balked. _I'm acting like my father?_ The anger. The swearing. The kicking_. I am, aren't I? God, I really am. Zorua is right._

The tension in his shoulders unknotted, fists unclenched. Immense guilt replaced the casing of anger around his heart. He hated his father, but he was no better than him. No. He was worse. At least his father accepted his nature. King hadn't even realized what he had been doing.

Well, you know what? Zorua continued. You want to push us so hard? Let's see what happens!

It bolted toward the galvantula, leaping over the ones already fallen from the battle.

"Zorua, wait!'

It jumped into the middle of them.

It fought a weak battle, for less than a second, before they began to rip it apart.

King screamed, slamming into one of the galvantula. He punched it again and again, startling it off of zorua. He yanked at the other two and shoved them away. Zorua lay in a pool of its blood, fur matted and torn like its ear from when humans abused it in Castelia.

King, desperately trying to ignore the electric shocks beating at him from behind, bent down and clutched zorua in his arms. He fumbled for his Pokeballs, returning palpitoad and rufflet. Hot tears stung his eyes.

One galvantula leaped for him, biting his thigh. He cried out and sprinted away, favoring the leg, zorua held close to his chest. Its blood stained his shirt. Its breath was shallow. Pokemon Center. I need to get him there.

He bit back tears, swallowing hard.

_What have I done?_


	30. Chapter 29

N stumbled along aimlessly. He did not know where he was going, nor where he was. He did not care.

The sky wept from above, spraying him with heavy rain that seeped into his clothes. His feet squished with each step. A dirt road paved the way before him, slick with mud; his only guide reference as he roamed in the blue darkness of the storm. But he did not care. Not that his clothes stuck to his skin, or that he had been walking for what felt like hours on end, his calves were tight knots, and not come across a person or city.

Luna was dead. Beautiful, radiant, exuberant Luna. He did not want to live in a world any longer that killed people of such innocence. And for what purpose?

Not for the first time, he stopped walking. It had been zoroarks that killed Luna. There was such thing as Pokemon with brutal, even violent natures, but it was impossible to believe that anything would drive one to commit such a crime. Unless told to do so by a human. N did not know everything about Luna's past, but he wondered who might have cause to hate her.

Before he could conclude an answer, he banished the thought from his mind and continued to wander. Thunder boomed, and lightning snaked through black clouds. What did it matter, anyway? The fact remained that Luna was dead, and N could not change that, even if he discovered the vile person who had her killed. He had already failed to protect the one person in the world who made him smile, genuinely smile, and laugh.

Maybe, for that, he did not deserve to keep living.

If he had not already spent every tear in his body after days of weeping, he would have broken down again and begun to sob into his hands; his heart was numb. Yet there was one thing he had gained, even if incredibly minuscule when compared to what he had lost.

In his hand, he clutched a Pokeball, water streaming down its red and white surface. Haxorus had asked N to be her trainer once Luna had died, while the rest of her Pokemon scattered to the wilds. Once, he would have felt incredible joy to learn of their freedom, but now, instead, he had continued to keep one of them in confinement.

Was it right for him to do so? He did not know. Bot haxorus had loved Luna, and there was no doubt that she had reciprocated the feeling, and so from time to time, N would clutch the Pokeball close to his chest. The last reminder of the girl he loved. Luna would want haxorus to be happy, and if what made the Pokemon happy was having N as a trainer, then so be it.

Lightning flashed again. This time, a robed, green-haired man stood a small distance in front of N, arms folded inside sleeves.

Ghetsis. His father. The image stuck in N's eyes as the white light faded, and Ghetsis became an indistinct shade. N felt as though he should have been surprised out find his father out in the open and not in a prison cell, let along standing in front of N. His eyes widened only slightly, however, before the void inside him swallowed the glimmer of bewilderment.

He hid the Pokeball behind his leg as he went to Ghetsis.

"My son," his father said. The weighted patter of rain drowned most of what N could hear of his voice, but N still recognized it. "You fled, forcing me to come and search for you."

"I believe you had been captured, father," N said, raising his voice to be heard.

Lightning flashed. A frown contorted Ghetsis' face. "You should have trusted that humans would not so easily capture me. Where did you go during this time, so far that I had to spend days searching for you?"

"I meant to have a trainer aid me in rescuing you. Luna. She had died, father."

"That girl was a trainer?"

N opened his mouth, then closed it again, pursing his lips. "Yes."

"Good riddance to her, then. You did not need her help, anyhow, seeing as my capture was your assumption and nothing more. Now, come along. Let us get out of this horrid rain. Things have changed."

Ghetsis turned on a heel and began to walk the dirt path, not waiting to see if N had a response.

He clenched the Pokeball until his knuckles were white. How could his father say that? N knew he meant it, too. Ghetsis was a smart man - the brightest N had ever met - but he was wrong. So entirely wrong that, for the first time in his life, N wanted to strangle his father.

He did not, of course, but followed behind him. N would have to become who he had been, again. He ran a thumb over the surface of haxorus' Pokeball.

He did not know if he could do that, or even if he wanted to.

The world that he and Ghetsis had begun to create, where Pokemon were free from the grasp of humans, it was not a world Luna would have liked. How many people had suffered because Team Plasma ripped their Pokemon away from them? How many cursed N's name as they wept into their pillows at night?

N watched his father's back, shadowed by the darkness, saturated with water. His father was counting on him, but surely another could take his place as the face of Team Plasma. Surely there was another. His life felt hollow and without meaning, and not even the goal of freeing Pokemon could bring the light back to him, for that goal that he worked so hard for may not have even been the right one.

If not for his father coming to find him, he thought he might have found a quiet place in the forest, surrounded by nature, and never moved from there again.


	31. Chapter 30

King sat in the waiting room of the Mistralton Pokemon Center, tapping his foot against the sleek white flooring. Palpitoad was seated to his right, sleeping, and rufflet to his left, making soft noises from time to time that seemed to be out of nervousness. Or maybe that was King's imagination. Though, considering that Pokemon could cry, perhaps they could be nervous as well. Or that could be only zorua. Zorua was different. Always had been, for as long as King had known him.

A nurse walked out of the back room. King whipped his head to look at her, opening his mouth, meaning to ask how zorua was, but she turned toward the counter. He licked his lips and stared at his tapping foot.

They were still checking on it. Three hours after Chargestone Cave. They'd all healed except for it - even King. After dropping his three Pokemon off at the Center, he'd gone to the hospital and had his thigh wrapped - the wound wasn't bad - and demanded to be released so he could come back to the Pokemon Center. He'd assumed zorua, like palpitoad and rufflet, would have been healed by the time he got back. It wasn't.

_You hate that man? You act just like him!_ King pursed his lips. Zorua was right. He'd been acting like his father, and because of that, he'd allowed zorua to be injured. Not dead. The nurses weren't going to come out and tell King that zorua was dead.

He wiped the sweat away from his forehead with the back of his hand. If they did, he didn't think he could take it, knowing that it had been his fault.

Rufflet nudged his arm with its beak. King patted its head absentmindedly. They had all suffered for what he did, not only zorua. All because he wanted to surpass his father.

Was it worth it, for zorua's life? _But Pokemon are tools. What do you do when a tool breaks? You don't cry over it. You get a new one._ No. That was what his father thought; what he had preached to King when he was a little boy. Over the years, King had started to believe what his father was saying was true. But he would _not_ be like that bastard.

_So, what?_ _Now you think of Pokemon as teammates? _He thought. _You're starting to sound like that N. He believed Pokemon should be treated with fairness, as well._

_And is that such a bad thing?_

Another nurse walked out of the back room. This one began to head toward him, heels clicking. He shot to a stand, rufflet flying over to perch on his shoulder.

"King?" She asked, stopping in front of him.

"Yeah," he said, "that's me. How's zorua?"

She flicked her head over her shoulder, toward where she'd come. "Why don't you follow me and I'll show you."

He nodded, swallowing down the lump in his throat. Palpitoad startled awake when he picked it up and held it in one arm.

The nurse led him through a painted white hallway that ran the length of the Pokemon center, and into a room in the back. It smelled like a doctor's office.

Inside was a table with a glass dome covering it. Zorua lay within, breathing softly, covered head to toe in bandages.

King ran to it. Palpitoad bubbled sadly, and rufflet folded its wings close to its chest. King's eyes flicked downward. Did his Pokemon blame him for what they saw? The other nurses, with their chanseys and audinos, worked at the electronics at the far wall or stared at King. They probably blamed him, too.

The one that brought him there stepped beside him. "How honest do you want me do be with you?"

"Give it to me straight."

"Zorua might never be able to battle again. Ignoring the serious injuries it has almost everywhere on its body, rips in the flesh and excessive blood loss, one of its forelegs was completely broken."

King ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. Never be able to battle again? His heart sunk. If that were the truth, it would crush zorua. It had only ever wanted to have fun in battle with a trainer that loved it. _All my fault._ _Because I didn't see. Because I didn't care._

"How did this happen?" Another nurse asked. He recognized her as the one he'd yelled at before going to Chargestone Cave. "Injuries this bad are very rare, even for trainers whose Pokemon are constantly battling."

"Listen. I apologize for coming in here and yelling at you like that before," King said. "I wasn't in the right mind. I went to train zorua and rufflet and palpitoad after. I… pushed them too hard."

"Sometimes," said the nurse next to him, "if an owner is abusing their Pokemon, we have the right to take that Pokemon away and put them somewhere else where they can be happier. Is that what we're-"

"No," King interrupted. "No. Please. That won't be necessary. I realize that I've made a mistake. I won't make it again."

The nurses eyed one another.

"Isn't there anything you can do for zorua?" He continued. "There must be."

The nurse at his side shook her head. "There isn't. Nothing that we haven't already tried. You have to understand that sometimes a wound goes so deep that no amount of Pokemon healing or our own medicine can fully heal it. Such is the case with one of zorua's legs. We've set it back in place, but it didn't heal right. Zorua may never be able to walk on it again, but I suppose only time will tell. There's always the slim chance that it could recover, depending."

The glass was cold as he laid a hand on it, watching zorua. It was his fault that it was like that. That it might never battle again.

"However," the nurse continued, "I think we're going to allow zorua to return to you once we determine it's ready to be discharged. You seem to care about its fate genuinely."

"How long?"

"A few days at the most," she said. "Stay around town; we'll let you know. For now, you can leave. Zorua is in good hands."

He nodded and reluctantly pried his hand off the glass. "Come on," he mumbled to palpitoad and rufflet, walking from the room. He found his way back to the lobby, where the sliding glass doors opened to let him outside.

The guilt he was feeling was like nothing he had ever experienced.

He started away from the Pokemon Center, shoving his hands in his pockets. The wind swirled around as he walked, no particular destination in mind. He eventually ended up staring at the gym, with its open ceiling and glass windows.

He remembered zorua disregarding his orders and charging forward. Maybe it had had enough. Maybe King still wouldn't have won, even if it hadn't done that. _Something that I'm missing…_

That thing. What was it? What allowed emolga and Skyla to be so in sync to the point where it seemed like emolga was reading Skyla's thoughts? _No. You know what it is._

A young kid, no more than ten years old, walked from the gym, grinning and holding a Jet Badge in the air. There was a pikachu on his shoulder, and the Pokemon scampered down, admiring the badge. The kid thanked and hugged it, claiming that it was only because of pikachu that he was able to win the medal.

King looked away. All along, that was what he'd been missing. Why a kid could beat Skyla when he couldn't.

Because he didn't ever form a bond with his Pokemon. Because he hadn't ever cared enough.


	32. Chapter 31

Four days later, they called King back to the Pokemon Center. Zorua was ready to be released, they said. So he left his hotel and went, and when he got there, two nurses were waiting outside for him, and zorua was standing between them, the one leg it favored still bandaged.

King stepped up to them. One nurse was the same who'd explained everything to him those few days prior when he'd wanted to see how zorua was.

"As I mentioned before," she said, "zorua shouldn't battle anymore. But," she sighed, "what you do is up to you, and you alone." Nodding to him, she turned on a heel and walked into the Pokemon Center, the other nurse trailing at her heels, leaving King and zorua alone. The Pokemon didn't look at him.

He squatted to its level. "Hey, zorua. How're you feeling?"

No answer. King scratched his arm, licked his lips.

"Zorua? Come on; I'll buy you pancakes or something."

Again, the Pokemon didn't answer him.

The loud rumble of a plane engine took off over them.

King broke down, knees hitting gravel. "Listen, zorua, I'm sorry, alright?" He pleaded, the words struggling to get out of his mouth. It wasn't easy, it wasn't, but he pushed through. Zorua needed to hear it. King needed to hear himself say it. "I won't make excuses. What I've done, what I've been doing this whole damn time, is wrong. I'm sorry, zorua. It's my fault you got injured. It's my fault that you might never battle again. I'm sorry."

He opened his eyes - he'd squeezed them shut -and looked at zorua. It was staring at him.

_Did you really mean what you said in the swamps? That you only took me from Castelia City because you wanted to use me?_

King opened his mouth, then closed it again. He nodded. "I did. But I was wrong, zorua. I was wrong. I'm not just saying this because I want you to fight for me, I'm saying this because I… really feel horrible. When I saw you jump in the middle of all those galvantula, I don't know, something changed."

Zorua paused, then finally spoke. _I want to keep battling, King._

"You do?"

_I do. I always wanted a bond with a trainer. Before, after I was born, I tried to live out in the wilds, but I just couldn't do it. I never had a mother to take care of me, I… think she died somewhere, and there was nothing out there for me. It was eat, then run from predators, eat, then run. I love battling, but how can I trust you anymore, King? How can I trust any humans?_

"Another chance, zorua," King said. "Give me another chance. Let me show you that I see I was wrong."

They stared at one another. _Come on, zorua. Come on. _King didn't deserve a Pokemon like zorua, didn't deserve to be forgiven. But, still, he had to ask. Even if zorua said no, he could rest easy knowing that he tried, and knowing that zorua would probably be better off somewhere else.

_Have you really changed? Can I trust you?_

"Yes. You can."

_Really?_

"Yes."

Zorua leaped into his arms. King caught it, startled. "What are you doing?"

_That's all I've ever wanted to hear, King. That's all._

The guilt, the immense weight on King's chest, vanished. Zorua forgave him, despite everything. He wasn't about to betray the Pokemon's kindness again. He stood, smiling, and patted zorua on the head.

"I'm going to trust you as well, zorua," he said. "Both in and out of battle. Skyla showed me something. I've been too controlling over you three. I need to place some measure of trust in you all, and not only rely on myself. I'm willing to do that."

He placed zorua on his shoulder and started toward the Mistralton gym.

_Where are we going?_

"To challenge the gym. Anyway, we've been talking as if you're fit to battle. Are you…"

_You listened to what that woman said?_

King snorted. "She's a nurse, zorua."

_I'll battle. Trust me._

He nodded. "Alright, then. If you're sure, like I said, we're going to be trying out a new tactic. First, I'm going to try and take out Skyla's emolga using both palpitoad and rufflet, then save you for whatever her second Pokemon is. I want you to, at times, use moves even when I don't shout out a command. I want you to use your intuition, and I'll be there to… I guess, catch you when you fall."

_Wow. I should get injured more often, _Zorua said.

"Listen… I've had a lot of time to think these past few days, alright? I've treated the three of you horribly. Like my father, and you can be sure that if he does something, it's wrong."

Zorua chuckled. _Alright. Let's do it._

The gym appeared in view, sunlight reflecting on its windows. "Right. Into your Pokeball for now."

Zorua nodded and hopped off his shoulder. King returned him to his Pokeball, then went inside the gym.

Skyla was already waiting for him, hands on hips. She grinned as he came in and stood on the other side of the Pokeball.

"Knew I was coming?" He asked.

"Mhm!" She said. "I know everything that happens in this town. Now, come on!" She sent out emolga. "Battle time!"

He wreathed a hand around rufflet's Pokeball. He hadn't discussed the plan with only zorua. Rufflet and palpitoad were going to use their intuition, as well. It was time he started treating them as what they were, not as tools, but as partners, and that meant giving them some measure of freedom. He was going to start relying on someone other than himself. He knew he'd been wrong about everything, but if it worked… it would be all the proof he needed.

He felt the cold metal of the Pokeball on his palm. He closed his eyes, listening to his heartbeat. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. He cleared his thoughts of anything other to win, focused his mind. He tasted the residue of pancakes in his mouth from breakfast that morning. He smelled the faint smell of burnt jet fuel that permeated through the town, drifting in with the wind, felt that wind on his skin. The smooth fabric of his clothes. The warm sun on his neck.

He would not lose. Not after finally deciding to place his trust in his Pokemon. _I will not be like my father, never again._

He reeled his arm back and chucked rufflet's Pokeball into the air. The bird appeared in a flash of white, glaring at emolga.

"You know the rules!" Skyla called. "Let the battle begin!"

King planted his feet. _Trust. Put your trust in them._

"Emolga, Volt Switch!"

Rufflet looked back at King as emolga spun in the air, charging an orb of crackling electricity. King nodded.

Rufflet bolted forward, wings glowing. Emolga released Volt Switch. The move shot through the air, cracking and snapping, but rufflet charged it. Closer. Closer. King smirked.

The bird tucked its wings in, spinning under it. Volt Switch slammed against the wall, dispersing in a flash of sparks. Rufflet became a blur of speed as it unfurled its wings, the wind molding around him as he darted upward, spiraling. Crashing into emolga.

Aerial Ace.

Emolga tumbled but managed to regain its flight a few inches above the ground with a cry. Skyla was grinning like a fool, even though her Pokemon had gotten hit.

"Rufflet, come back." He returned to the space above King's head.

"Wow, King! You've changed, and so has your Pokemon. Rufflet likes you a lot better."

King craned his neck to look at rufflet. "That so?"

"Emolga, use Acrobatics!" Was her answer.

Emolga all but disappeared. The move that had caused King so much trouble in his first match. Not anymore. He was prepared for it, this time around. He'd had plenty of days to think about a lot of things.

"Rufflet, Tail Wind!"

Rufflet flapped its wings, squawking. The air in front of him stirred, pushing in waves. Emolga came close, but soon was flailing backward, propelled by the winds, unable to become steady enough to get into a stable position.

King returned rufflet to his Pokeball. Before palpitoad even came out, King was calling an order.

"Bubble Beam!"

The long stream of bubbles caught emolga by surprise, sending her sprawling against the wall. She fell to the ground like a leaf from a tree, once palpitoad's move ended.

Rufflet was back before emolga could take flight, palpitoad safe inside his Pokeball.

Emolga cried and dashed forward. Acrobatics. Rufflet knew what to do, beginning to generate strong gusts with his wings, when a sudden Volt Switch broke through the Tail Wind, slamming against rufflet.

King tsked as his Pokemon fell, though he ran over and caught him before the bird struck the solid ground. Emolga, having landed an attack with Volt Switch, disappeared inside one of Skyla's Pokeballs, and a female unfezant appeared to take her place.

King looked at rufflet. "Nice job. You… did great."

Rufflet cawed happily, if not weakly after being damaged before King sent him back into his Pokeball.

"Let's continue!" Skyla called. "I'm having so much fun!"

He tucked the device away. His fingers stalled above zoruas Pokeball. Could zorua do it? Unfezant wasn't powerful, not compared to other final evolutions, but zorua was injured, plus still in his first stage._ I have to have trust._ King had already told zorua he was going to let him battle. He couldn't go back on that, and especially not after zorua had told King how much he loved to fight.

King released him. The Pokemon landed somewhat unsteadily but stood nonetheless.

_I can do this, King. I can do this._

King nodded slowly. "I know. Long as you don't just fling Extrasensorys everywhere."

Zorua smiled.

"Alright, unfezant! Go for it!'

Unfezant squawked. The Pokemon's body shimmered with blue light, and in moments, rotating orbs of slicing wind were plunging toward zorua, one after the other. Air Slash.

Zorua jumped to the right, landing on his good feet, dodging some of the orbs. More came. He continued to evade them, moving this way and that, as agile as ever on his feet so long as he was careful with his injured one. An opening came. He released a Dark Pulse.

Unfezant flew under the move with not a second left to spare.

"Keep it up, unfezant! Air Cutter this time!"

Crescents of sky-colored energy replaced the orbs, shot each time unfezant crossed its wings. Zorua dodged, over and over, but it was all he could do. King clenched his jaw. There was no move he could call that would help, not when unfezant had that advantage of flight. Dark Pulse. Extrasensory. Nasty Plot. Foul Play. Zorua had to keep dodging until he found another opening, and then-

Zorua stumbled.

King saw the pain ripple through his face as he accidentally landed on his injured foreleg. Air Cutter instantly ceased.

"Unfezant, use Swagger!" Skyla shouted, pointing.

A red glow surrounded unfezant, and she spread her wings out wide, trying to look intimidating. Zorua's eyes turned the same color. He was confused.

"Shit!" King cursed. "Zorua-"

"Unfezant, Hyper Beam!"

King's face drained of color. He stared at the unfezant, at Skyla smirking; his brain turned to mush. A white pillar began to form in front of the bird. _Unfezant knows Hyper Beam?!_

He forced himself to move. He looked to his waist, fumbling for the Pokeball. He had to return zorua. The Pokeball was in his hand-

He dropped it by accident.

Hyper Beam hit.

The floor rumbled as a torrent of white energy crashed over zorua. King called out his name, shielding his eyes with his arm, tripping on the shaky ground. Hyper Beam continued to plow into zorua. _Dammit!_ He tried to stand, but fell, helpless to do anything. Zorua hadn't failed him. He'd failed zorua in not being able to react in time.

It was forever before the move trickled down to nothing, and the intense light faded. King didn't get to his feet. He waited for Skyla to call that she had won.

She never did. A tense, almost palpable silence slid over the room. Heart beating in his ears, King turned to look.

Zorua was no longer there.

King stared at a zoroark with slumped arms, one of them loosely bandaged, trails of steam rising off his body. He glanced over his shoulder at King and nodded.

Then he tilted his head back and roared. King grinned. Zorua was a zoroark.

Zoroark vanished. Another instant and he was behind a panting unfezant, raising a glowing, crimson claw. He struck the bird, racking across her back. Unfezant cracked into the ground, tossing up a small, thin cloud of dust. Zoroark twirled and landed on his feet.

He had learned Night Slash.

Unfezant didn't rise and was soon swallowed by white light as Skyla returned her to a Pokeball, releasing a weak emolga.

Skyla shook her head. "I don't believe it… well, it's not over! Emolga, Volt Switch!"

Crimson light bathed zoroark's black and red fur.

_You may wish to back away, King_, said a voice in King's head, much more profound and deep than it had been when he was a zorua.

He scrambled to his feet. "What the hell is it now?" He asked, back away.

"Wait, emolga!" Skyla shouted. "Change of plans! Light Screen!"

The electricity building in front of emolga blinked away, replaced by a forming screen of pink light. A dark, swirling orb of energy surrounded zoroark as he raised his arms. _Wait… That move is…_

King turned and sprinted the other away. _Night Daze._

Zoroark released the attack. Despite how far he was, it still slammed against King's back, throwing him to the ground in a wave of seeping cold and churning wind. He threw his arms over his head, tumbling, but it was over as soon as it began.

Groaning, King lowered his arms. Skyla sat on her butt, shaking her head as if to try and clear it. Emolga had sprawled on the ground, unmoving. Light Screen hadn't worked as well as Skyla thought it would.

That meant that King - no, he and his Pokemon - were the winners. Overwhelming joy flooded through him as he stood. He found what he'd been missing.

Zoroark came to him, patting him with a claw on his shoulder.

_Sorry, King._

King shook his head, thumping zoroark in the side. The Pokemon was only about a foot shorter than him. "You kidding me? We won because of that."

Zoroark nodded. _We did. I feel… different._

"Sound different, too. Evolving is probably like growing up, but a whole lot quicker. How's your arm, by the way?"

_Still hurts, but not nearly as bad. I will not be walking on it anymore, so it shouldn't impair me too much, I don't think._

King nodded. Zoroark turned as Skyla came over, rubbing her back. She'd already returned emolga to her Pokeball. Abruptly, though, Skyla jumped about a mile and stared in bewilderment at zoroark. King raised an eyebrow.

"You can talk?" She exclaimed.

"Oh," King said, "yeah. He's always been able to do that."

_I apologized for wounding her._

"I see, though I don't know if I'd call that a wound," King said. He looked expectantly at Skyla.

"I'm so glad I could help you discover how to be a better trainer." She smiled, digging into her pocket. The Jet Badge sat in the palm of her glove as she held it out to King. "No wonder zoroark evolved. Because the strength of your bond grew so much!"

King took the badge in two fingers. He almost didn't want to pin it to his shirt. He's worked incredibly hard for it, him, and especially his Pokemon. But, it was a symbol of all of that. He placed it next to the two others.

Skyla ran off, leaving zoroark and King in the gym as she proclaimed she had to take her Pokemon to get healed.

Zoroark turned to King once she'd gone, arms crossed over his chest. Where will we go now?

"Only one place to go," King answered. "Driftveil City. We've got a fourth gym badge to win."

Side by side, they walked out of the building. The sun seemed a little brighter, the sky a little clearer, as they began their journey to Driftveil City. King realized how happy he was to finally have a bond with his Pokemon. He'd traveled - he'd lived - alone for so long, no friends, no family, that he'd forgotten what it meant to put your trust in someone else.


	33. Chapter 32

Again, N found himself in Castelia City, its black buildings rising from the earth like so many bony fingers. He did not want to be there and made it known to his father, but he proclaimed they had a rally to attend, and N could not convince him that they should go elsewhere.

He did not want to be there for more than the simple fact that he had begun to despise cities because of the awful memories that bubbled to the surface when he entered them. Memories of blood, of the popping blare of gunfire. Luna had said she'd forgiven him, and for a time, nightmares of Drayden's pale, lifeless body did not haunt him, but Luna was dead, and the happy memories he'd shared with her when there was no burden on his shoulders, seemed a fading dream. But, no, Drayden was not the only reason.

The city had also changed.

When N and Ghetsis were progressing past the tree-lined outskirts, the sound of cheering, coming in waves, growing louder as they came closer as if he heard the cities heartbeat, filled N's ears. He inquired to his father as to its source, but Ghetsis stated that he would see, and as they moved under the looming shadows of metal buildings, N did, and what he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.

A crowd, more significant than any N had ever seen, gathered in the square of a street intersection. People moving in that direction were parking their cars on street sides, filing out of their vehicles. Not to scream for the people to move, but instead, many, if not all, joined the mob. They all faced in one direction, away from N and Ghetsis, listening to someone speak, though N could not make out the words.

He suddenly became self-conscious of the Pokeball hidden in his hat. This was the rally that his father wanted him to attend. This was the product of everything N had worked for since leaving the castle.

But it meant nothing now. It was not the world Luna would have wished.

Ghetsis' hand squeezed his shoulder. "Go, my son. Preach to them. Julia will be happy to have your aid."

Julia? She was one of those there when he killed Drayden. A boom of shouts erupted from the crowd, many raising their arms in triumph. "I cannot, father."

"What? What do you mean, you _cannot_?" Ghetsis barked. "I would think you would relish at the opportunity. Look! Look at what we have accomplished. You are still the face of Team Plasma, the face of this movement. You were the spark. Seeing you in person will make them more serious in their newfound beliefs than ever."

N looked at them all._ This is not what Luna would have wanted. Pokemon… they love being with trainers. What have I done?_ "But… father, well, what if the police come? What if they find and capture me?"

Ghetsis scowled. "You have never worried about such things. Besides, they will not. I have had Team Plasma take care of them."

"Father…"

"Do you not trust your father anymore?" Ghetsis shouted. "I do not like this new rebellious side of you, my son! I do not like it at all. You will go up there, and you will show them your beliefs!"

N pursed his lips. Perhaps he would do it if only to assuage his father's anger. Why should he resist, anyway? Why should he resist anything?

"Alright, father."

Ghetsis snorted and nudged him.

He started forward, weaving his way through the crowd, smelling sweat, seeing smiles, and hearing cheers. At first, those around regarded him as they would any other, but then they began to notice his green hair. Gasps and shouts, even laughter, rippled through the crowd behind him. Some also touched him, as if he was famous. As if they had to be sure he was real.

Soon, as he reached the other end and nodded to a bewildered Julia, they were all cheering his name in unison. N! N! N! His exploits had spread his name far and wide after they had appeared on the news.

That filled him with incredible sadness. _Each thing I did was out of ignorance. Humans don't oppress Pokemon; they are cared for and loved by almost all. I had not seen enough of the world to know that._

He quieted the people with a soothing gesture. They responded, and the cheers faded until each person waited on N's words with baited breaths.

He opened his mouth to speak. Any words he was going to say instantly died on his lips. He realized then that he could not do it. Genuinely lie to all of them? Keep going with a facade when he no longer believed what he was preaching?

Expectant eyes watched him. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. No. Doing so would be wrong. Would Luna have let someone else dictate the words that came out of her mouth? Never._ Luna is dead, N._

Yes. She was. The thought still made his chest ache and beckoned tears to his eyes, but his love for her was not.

Julia poked him. He blinked, smiling at her, then began to address the crowd.

"I fear I must tell you all that I have made a grave mistake." He paused. A cacophony of confused murmurs reached his ears. "I have done many things in the pursuit of freeing Pokemon from the rule of humans. I believed in that so strongly, so absolutely, that it drove me to kill an innocent man. Yes, innocent! Did being a gym leader make Drayden evil? Was he any worse than any of you? Than myself? No! I ask you to reconsider everything Team Plasma has-"

A hand gripped him by the arm, yanking him to the side. Startled silence covered the crowd like a blanket, and they followed him with their eyes as Ghetsis pulled him into a side alley between two buildings.

N winced as his father slammed him against the wall, snarling, pinning him with his charred arm. N struggled, but he was not strong enough to release himself.

"What do you think you're doing?" Ghetsis roared. "What do you think you're _doing_? You'll ruin everything!"

N clawed at his father's arm, feeling the weight press on his throat, cutting off his breath. "Father… let go… of me!"

Ghetsis did. N fell to his knees, coughing and holding a hand to his throat.

"You'll never do that again, understand? Understand me?"

"Yes," N mumbled.

"What?" Ghetsis demanded.

"Yes!"

"Get up."

N wiped his mouth with his arm and pushed to his feet. He met his father's eyes with an even look.

"I should have never let you out of my sight, not for a single moment!" Ghetsis threw his hands up in frustration. "The world has done what I feared it would do. It has corrupted you, but understand that what you just did will never happen again. We're leaving, and when we arrive in Nimbasa City, you will comply with me, or there. Will. Be. Consequences."

Ghetsis turned on his heel, stomping away. N breathed a long, slow breath to calm himself, staring at his father's retreating form. He was not angry. He was not sad, not frustrated. He had done what he thought was right, and Ghetsis had responded accordingly.

N did ask himself, however, as he followed after his father, why he had always been so obedient and devoted.


	34. Chapter 33

King stepped out of the Driftveil City gym, the cold air that drifted from the mountains washing over him as if he'd walked into a freezer. The salt smelling breezes blowing in from the ocean didn't make it any warmer. He squinted at the pale sun. It was already almost winter.

Zoroark moved beside him, arms crossed over his chest. _That wasn't very difficult._

King smirked, flicking the Quake Badge up into the air and catching in his hand, then pinning it to his shirt. "Wanted more of a challenge?"

_Of course. There's no enjoyment if we simply win each battle so easily._

"That's what happens when we've had so much practice," King said. "Come on: let's head into the city."

Zoroark nodded, trailing behind him. They progressed through the walkway lined with potted trees that led away from the gym, which eventually gave way to the padded dirt roads of the port town. Zoroark admired the bustling markets and ships loaded with crates of cargo. King found himself engrossed in his thoughts, hands in pockets.

Another gym beaten. That totaled the number of his gym badges to four. His father was a gym leader, and one of these days, King would have to go and challenge him. He would show his father what it meant to be a trainer, and then go on to face the Champion and obtain that title for himself: what every trainer strived for, to solidify their place in history as one of the greatest. He wondered what his father would think about his newfound aptitude toward Pokemon.

No. It didn't matter in the slightest. King would win the gym badge from him, and then never see him again. That was perfectly fine: not like his father had ever done anything for him anyway.

_King._

He blinked, turning to zoroark. The Pokemon was searching the area with squinted eyes, looking this way and that. "What is it?"

_People are giving us odd looks. Do they always glance at you like that?_

It was King's turn to look around. Most of those that passed them, heading toward or away from the harbor, shot them contemptuous glances. One guy outright glared. Typically, King wouldn't care much, but as he watched, he realized something. By the docked ships, people were doing all the work of loading and unloading. All the manual labor. No Pokemon were helping. No one had any Pokemon walking with them.

"What the hell?" King said. "Where are all the Pokemon?"

_Hm. I don't know. Does it have something to do with why we're receiving these looks?_

Frowning, and suspecting that he knew why, King ran to someone nearby, getting the man's attention with a tap on the shoulder. He looked about King's age, but King had seen sticks that were better looking.

Zoroark tagged along. The man stopped and turned, a frown forming as he looked zoroark up and down. By the time his attention turned to King, he was scowling.

"What do you want?"

"You look like a knowledgeable fellow. Can you tell me why there aren't any Pokemon over there performing manual labor?" He pointed to the boats bobbing on the lapping surface of the water. "Or why there aren't any around in general, besides zoroark here."

Not answering, the man turned to leave. Zoroark stopped him. He wasn't the tallest, but almost any Pokemon could stand toe to toe with a human when they wanted to.

"Just want to talk," King said.

"Let me pass." The man, again, tried to leave. Zoroark barred his way with an arm.

"Answer the question. I don't know what you're thinking, but we're not going to hurt you."

The man whirled on him; lips pulled back from his teeth like a feral Pokemon. "Alright, what, have you been living under a rock? People are abandoning their Pokemon all over Unova, not only in this damn city. Oh, the government is doing everything they can to try and stop it, but Team Plasma grows larger every day. I'm a member myself, and I would make sure that zoroark of yours never gets seen again, but I'm in a hurry. So move."

King's expression dropped. _N. _People were listening to what N was saying, as King thought. Right when he'd discovered what it meant to be a trainer. Saying that humans oppressed Pokemon was nonsense. King had always thought that, and his opinion hadn't changed. Before, it was because he thought of Pokemon as nothing more than tools, but… now it was because he saw that they enjoyed being with their trainers. Of course, N would be able to gain a following. Most people were stupid enough to pledge to a cause that didn't make any sense.

The man's glare transitioned between him and zoroark. King sighed, nodding to his Pokemon. As soon as he lowered his arm, the man dashed away, not once looking back over his shoulder.

Zoroark watched him go. _It can't be true._

"I'm not so sure, zoroark." King shook his head. "I haven't paid any attention at all recently to the news, but come to think of it; Clay was acting pretty strange. Like there was something big on his mind."

A deep growl rumbled in zoroark's throat. _This is not good for Pokemon. If only they could all talk, like me, then they could tell those releasing them how they truly feel. It's so… sad. They probably assume humans are abandoning them._

King put a hand on his Pokemon's shoulder. "I wouldn't worry so much. We'll come around, eventually."

_We do not have to fear, do we? Your Pokemon, I mean._

"Of course not, zoroark." He laughed. "You're starting to sound like the old you."

Zoroark smiled, but it was a weak one. Ushering for him to follow, King started toward the Driftveil Drawbridge.

Zoroark was worried; King understood that. He was a little bit himself if only because people abandoning Pokemon could mean a recession in the economy. Or a boom in it. Less Pokemon working meant more jobs available to humans, but that also suggested companies would have to pay workers what they previously got for free by hiring Pokemon. Usually, they only had to pay them food.

He blinked, turning to zoroark. They stopped as they reached the foot of the drawbridge: a long, red arch over the water, crisscrossed with steel beams and supports. "You hungry, zoroark?"

_I wouldn't mind a little something._

King nodded. He pulled rufflet and palpitoad's Pokeballs from his waist and released them. Rufflet cawed, happy to have some fresh air, and landed on his favorite place - King's shoulder. Palpitoad sat on zoroark's foot, for whatever reason.

"Let's cross the bridge. We can grab something on the other side."

Zoroark looked across. What city?

"Nimbasa," King answered. "You can see the lights from here if you look hard enough. Anyway, that's where we'll be getting our fifth badge. I wouldn't mind getting another Pokemon before we fought her, too. Tympole was the most recent, and that was back in the… swamps."

Zoroark smiled, genuinely this time. _I've forgiven you for a long time, King. You have changed since then._

"Suppose I have, zoroark. Suppose I have." He scratched rufflet's fur. The four of them had only a small wait before they headed onto the bridge, laughing and chatting. The fact that people were abandoning Pokemon was far from King's mind, though he couldn't say the same for zoroark.


	35. Chapter 34

When N and his father arrived in Nimbasa City, the six other sages besides Ghetsis awaited them. They stood in a line, shadowed figures clothed in voluminous robes intricately designed by swirling patterns. Behind them lay a city controlled almost entirely by Team Plasma.

Neon lights flickered and sparked from lack of maintenance. Broken glass littered the streets, blown outward from destroyed shop windows. Citizens had abandoned their cars at the sides of roads, and the doors of apartment complexes were sealed shut. A riot had gone out of control, Ghetsis said. The military, nor the police, had been able to contain it: they were busy dealing with their members defecting and taking Pokemon with them. The military relied heavily on the strength of Pokemon, and without them, they were not strong enough to contain the populace and the rebellions within their ranks simultaneously.

The world N had once envisioned was unfolding before his eyes. No longer did he wish for it to be so. Looking around at the destruction gave him a horrible taste in his mouth that would not go away, no matter how many times he swallowed.

It was all his fault. It did not seem to matter what he did in life; it always was the wrong choice. He was a horrible person. A murderer. He could not save the woman he loved, and he had been too naive to see the truth of the relationship between Pokemon and person, and all of Unova was paying for it. He did not know who he was anymore, where he should go or what to do with himself. He did not know.

Ghetsis stopped in front of the other sages, and N did the same. Gorm was glancing furtively in his direction, even as the six of them bowed to Ghetsis in unison, arms wrapped in their sleeves. Gorm had always been a bit odd, and N chalked his behavior to that. His thoughts never returned to it twice.

"I trust everything is going according to plan," Ghetsis said, speaking to none of them in particular, though Rood nodded.

"Indeed, My Lord Ghetsis," he said. "Your genius has not failed us."

Ghetsis nodded. "We will talk over there."

His father moved, and the Sages shuffled after. When N turned to follow, Ghetsis held out a hand to stop him, and so he stayed where he was. He shouldn't have tried to go in the first place. He didn't care what they had to say, not truly. He no longer considered himself a member of Team Plasma, no matter what Ghetsis said or ordered him to do.

Surreptitiously, after checking to make sure that none were looking his way, even Gorm, he pulled his Pokeball out from its hiding place, holding it where the others could not see. He stroked the surface with his thumb. Somewhere in the ostensibly deserted city, once so full of life, was the Nimbasa gym leader. If she were not dead already, then she most likely would be in hiding. Though he didn't know her personally, of course, N hoped she would have been able to make it out of the city. No more gym leaders needed to die, and without a doubt, the gym, along with the houses of any who owned Pokemon, had been the riot's first targets.

The Sages were busy, huddled among themselves, and so N began to look around. Piles of trash tumbled over the sidewalks, pushed by a wind that groaned as it blew through buildings with broken windows and doors busted open. Gray, faceless clouds swirled, blocking the sun and the sky from view. Although there was no one in the immediate vicinity, members of Team Plasma from across Unova were gathering. Ghetsis said the purpose was to assemble in the hopes of creating the largest rally yet; one N was to be a part of. Should he plan to go along with his father's wishes, doing as he said? Or follow what his heart was telling him, and try to put a stop to it all? He could not think of an answer.

A flicker of movement caught his attention. Gorm was approaching him, licking his lips, looking from side to side, wringing his hands. N turned toward him.

"M-my Lord, ah, N."

"Gorm."

"There is-is not, ah, much time. Your father, My Lord. Your father, he has, ah, allowed me to come g-greet you."

N frowned. Gorm continued to shift on his feet; the man was incredibly nervous. "Is something the matter, Gorm? I do not think I can help, but it's obvious something is bothering you."

Suddenly, Gorm grabbed him by the shoulders; eyelids peeled back from red eyes. Ghetsis turned to look at them. "There is no time! I must, ah, I must t-tell you!"

His father began to walk toward them. N's eyebrows furrowed together. "Tell me what, Gorm?"

"I cannot do t-this any-any longer, Lord N! I c-cannot! I never thought we would begin, ah, begin to, ah, start killing people! Lord N, I…"

Ghetsis broke into a jog, robe swishing. Gorm's grip on his shoulders tightened.

"I don't care! I m-must say it!" Gorm shouted, spittle spraying on to N's face.

"Your father! Your father is the one who killed-"

Suddenly Ghetsis was behind him. With a flourish of his robe, his hands wrapped around Gorm's chin and head. The color drained from the Sage's face. N opened his mouth.

There was a snap. Gorm crumpled.

Ghetsis, panting, stared at Gorm's dead body. He composed himself and looked at N. They met each other's gaze.

"What was Gorm going to say, father?" N whispered. He did not need an answer, for he already knew it. Someone that Ghetsis did not want N to realize he had killed. A secret that he would kill Gorm to hide.

The thump of N's heart pounded in his ears. His blood boiled, raged through his body. His fingernails sunk into the skin of his palm, his jaw clenched as hard as a vice, teeth grinding. Something inside N shattered. The veil through which he saw Ghetsis. His vision blurred until it seemed as though he was looking at his father through a tunnel.

N had known all along that it was him, but he had not been willing to admit it. Not prepared to face the truth.

"You killed her, didn't you?" N spat. "You killed her!"

"I should never have trusted that fool," Ghetsis said. N could barely hear him.

"No," N said, his voice cracked, shaky. "You shouldn't have."

He cracked a fist against Ghetsis' nose. Blood spurted onto N's knuckles as Ghetsis fell back, crying out.

The other Sages were at his side in an instant, helping him to a stand. He wiped the blood from his nose with a sleeve, shaking his head.

"You're right, boy. I killed that insipid girl."

N roared. He released haxorus.

His thoughts were a blur, a churning mass inside his head. _Father killed Luna. Father killed Luna. Father killed Luna._

The Sages stumbled as haxorus reeled her head back, a roar to match N's. She could feel his anger, his sorrow, the feeling of betrayal that raked his heart.

A maniacal laugh erupted from Ghetsis. "You have a Pokemon, boy? How ironic!"

Ghetsis put a hand into his robe, and when he took it out again, an Ultraball sat in his palm. N stared at it as if it were a poisonous ekans.

His father was a trainer.

N screamed in outrage as Ghetsis released a hydreigon. The five other Sages summoned Pokemon as well. Haxorus bellowed at them all.

A battle ensued. An impact threw N back, hard pain shooting through his shoulder blades, as beams of energy blasted, breaking holes into concrete, disintegrating parts of buildings. Glass shattered. Haxorus fought with every ounce of her being, but she could not beat six other Pokemon. Not alone. Wounds appeared on her body. Exhaustion began to overtake her.

_Go, N!_ He heard in his mind. _Go! I will not lose another one of my trainers!_

A Hyper Beam threw her back, white light blinding N's vision. He pulled himself onto shaky legs, blinking. "I will not run away again! I will not!"

He bolted forward. Haxorus screamed in his mind, but he could not hear her. Ghetsis regarded him with a sneer. His father would pay. Pay for what he had done to Luna.

His feet slapped against the concrete. Closer. Closer. _I'll kill him! I'll kill him!_

An excadrill was suddenly before him, reeling back a steel arm. N screamed, charging it. The claw flew toward his stomach.

A figure crashed into excadrill, throwing it to the side. A bouffalant.

N stumbled to a halt. Bouffalant nodded at him. _This man, this Ghetsis, killed Gorm. We will fight._

Four empty Pokeballs tumbled from Gorm's dead body. Four Pokemon stood facing the Sages.

_N, you must go!_ Haxorus called to him. _There is nothing you can do here! Live! Live to fight another day!_

The Sages were releasing more of their Pokemon. Seven, eight, nine, ten of them.

N turned and ran. Hot tears made trails down his cheeks as he sprinted away. Explosions echoed behind him.

He cried for haxorus; that he had to leave her to fight with only Gorm's Pokemon to aid her. He cried for Luna. He cried because his father had killed her. That he hadn't faced the truth sooner, and brave Gorm had needed to sacrifice himself to make N see.

See that his father was not a man at all, but a monster.

Haxorus would fight and come find N later. He was sure of it. In the meantime, N needed someone. Someone that could help him stop his father.

Anyone.


	36. Chapter 35

N did not reunite with haxorus until three days later. During that time, he had run, and he had hidden, worry creasing the lines of his face, but he did not leave the area nearby Nimbasa City; could not. That was where haxorus was, and where Ghetsis, the five other Sages, and almost all of Team Plasma would be, preparing to gather. N had decided what he would do. He was going to stop them all. If so many saw that he no longer believed in their goal, inevitably, at least some would change their minds.

There were those that his father sent to look for him - members of Team Plasma. Forests dotted The outskirts of the city, and although most of the trees no longer had leaves, there were still tangled bushes and thick trunks to use as cover. Sometimes, however, one of them would get too close to N, almost to the point of finding him, forcing him to use violence. He knew he had no choice in the matter, and he did not kill any of them, but that did not remove the guilt.

On the evening of the third day, when the sun was sinking below the horizon, coloring the sky bronze and flaring the clouds various shades of red and orange; its fading light glimmering through bare branches, N crouched inside a bush, hidden. Pricks poked the skin of his arms and where his clothes had rips in them from his days of running. It had been so long since he'd eaten anything that hunger gnawed his stomach; his skin pulled against his ribs. His tongue was swollen and felt like sandpaper, and his eyes burned from lack of sleep.

When the rustle of leaves and the crunching of sticks sounded behind him, his sluggish, sleep-deprived brain almost didn't register the noise, but soon he was leaping to his feet, heart jolting into his throat as he spun around.

But it was haxorus. Wounded and tired.

N beamed, grinning. He was surprised he could still smile. The Pokemon staggered forward, using the trunk of a tree to steady herself.

_I finally found you._

"Haxorus!" N ran to her and hugged her tight. Blood stained his shirt. "You are injured. We must get you to a Pokemon Center, haxorus. We must!"

Please. Don't worry. I'm okay. She stumbled. N caught her the best he could, laying her on the ground so that she might rest, haxorus' were not light Pokemon. His arms burned from the effort of it.

"Haxorus," he repeated, kneeling beside her. "I will not be able to carry you, but I won't leave you here. Not alone."

_I am alright. Have trust._

N shifted. After a moment, he said, "how did you escape?"

_The Pokemon that belonged to that poor man who was killed by... your father. They allowed me to flee and find you. Many of them didn't survive, N._

N shook his head, expression falling. More evil done by his father.

He took her Pokeball in his hand. "I'll… someone will agree to heal you. Some Pokemon Center must have people still working inside. Perhaps one outside the city."

_N…_

He held the Pokeball pointed toward her. Haxorus dissolved into a beam of white energy, absorbed through the center of the device. N stood. Someone would be able to heal her. He would not let her suffer, especially not when it was Ghetsis who caused that suffering.

There was a road leading to Nimbasa City nearby, he knew. He started in the direction he thought must be the correct one, based on where he had last stumbled on the road, pushing past the trees and the dense underbrush. By the time he reached it, the sun had retired; the sky above a vast plain of velvety blackness, pricked by dots of light like holes in a quilted blanket. A cold wind blew, ruffling his hair and his clothes.

Pockets of light from street lamps lined either side of the road. N could hear nothing but the buzzing of insect-like Pokemon and the distant calls of others. He did not think anyone was around, looking to his left, then to his right. Nimbasa City was a glimmer in the night. Should he go there to find a Pokemon Center, or look elsewhere?

He took a step, then stopped. There was something else to be heard. The soft tune of a person whistling.

Movement registered in the darkness, and then two figured stepped into the light of one of the street lamps. One, a zoroark; his arms crossed in a human-like way over his chest. The other, a young man, no older than N, with wispy red hair, hands in his pockets, wearing a gray undershirt and tie. There was a pack on his shoulders.

King. The trainer who had won the Vertress Tournament.

N was moving before he could think to stop himself. What King believed did not matter, not any longer. He was a trainer, and there was the possibility that he would be able to heal haxorus.

N moved in front of him, into the light. King froze, his eyes widening. His tune fell off, carried away by the breeze.

"Wow," he said after a moment, looking to zoroark. "It's this guy again."

Zoroark nodded.

"Please," N said, taking a step. "Please help me."

King raised an eyebrow. "You're not going to demand I release my Pokemon?"

N did not answer. Instead, he held out haxorus' Pokeball in his palm. King met his gaze. "I have changed. I no longer follow that path. But, please, haxorus is injured, and I do not know if I can help her alone."

For a long time, King was silent. Then, zoroark and he exchanged a look.

"Yeah," King said to his Pokemon. N gasped.

"You can speak to them?"

"What? Oh. No. Zoroark can talk."

_I can talk._

King continued before N could say anything more. "Well, I can get your Pokemon up to shape no problem, but you don't look so great yourself. Why don't you follow me? I'll take you to the place I'm staying at, and you can grab a bite."

He turned on his heel and began to walk away, whistling. Zoroark smiled at N: an odd expression for a Pokemon, but not unpleasant.

_He has changed, you know, as it seems you have. His heart is much softer._

N shook his head in disbelief. He watched King's retreating form. "Truly?"

_Truly. King doesn't think of us as tools. Not anymore._

Zoroark ushered him to follow, and they walked side by side as they trailed after King. N could not believe it. To think that someone who once did not even think of Pokemon as living beings could change so much. It was further proof of what Granny had once told him. That he bond between Pokemon and trainer was one of growth.

Further proof that everything N had done was for nothing. He had murdered Drayden for nothing.

He turned to zoroark. "So, if you would not mind, what happened to make him change that much, as you claim?"


	37. Chapter 36

King leaned back in the ladder-backed chair, resting an arm at the top rail of it. Zoroark lay on one of the motel room's beds, arms crossed behind his head, and across the lacquered wooden table from King, that N fellow scarfed down three plates worth of food like it was his last day living.

"I guess you were pretty hungry after all, huh?" King mused. N didn't slow, not even for a second, only gave a slight bob of his head. King grunted.

At that time of night, they had made it to King's temporary room in a motel unnoticed - a good thing, too, otherwise someone might have recognized N. As soon as they'd arrived, N demanded that King heal his haxorus. He did willingly, with the leftover potions he had tucked away in his pack. Once that was done, King had left the guy inside for a little bit while he stopped at a nearby diner to buy a few things.

He shifted in his seat. Dark brown paint covered the walls of the small room; the carpet the same color. Besides the table that the two of them relaxed at, the only other furniture was the two beds; each pushed against an opposite wall. Before King had brought food into the place, it'd stunk like no one had bothered to clean it in seventeen years. Now it was filled with the smell of grease, which reminded him of those times he would spend at one diner or another in Castelia City, not knowing how to cook worth a damn.

He wondered whatever happened with his apartment. He was sure that, at one point or another, his landlord had gotten his stuff out of there and called it a day, so that someone else with more money would be able to move in and take his place. Maybe one day he'd go back and apologize to her - if the city wasn't already buzzing with riots. The owner of the diner had explained to him that something nasty and god-awful, as he'd put it, had already happened in Nimbasa City.

_Speaking of_. "So. You been over to the main part of Nimbasa lately?"

N paused with his cheeseburger to his lips. He swallowed hard what he'd been chewing, put his food down, then nodded. "Yes. I have."

"And?"

"It is not good." N shook his head. "Not good at all. People have all but deserted the streets. That is, for now, anyway."

"What do you mean, 'for now'?" King asked, scooting his chair closer to the table, folding his arms on its surface.

N looked at his food, grimacing as if his appetite had completely fled him. He pursed his lips. "Team Plasma is gathering."

"_Your _organization is gathering, you mean."

"I am no longer affiliated with them, though I think the members still view me as the face of Team Plasma."

"That so?" King said. "Let's hear it, then. What _did_ happen?"

Zoroark picked his head off the pillow, the old wood of the bed creaking under him, and sat at the edge of it, arms dangling on knees. N shifted, wiping his hands on a napkin, opening his mouth, then closing it again as if trying to decide what he wanted to tell King and what he didn't. That was understandable: the guy had gone through a lot to change that much, and the two of them weren't exactly best friends.

Finally, though, he started to speak. "It is… my father, King. Once - it feels like so long ago - but, once, I idolized him. Now, I've come to see how awful a man he really is."

_Maybe we're not so different from one another after all._ "Go on."

"He is the true leader of Team Plasma, you see. I… think that he has manipulated me my entire life, controlling me. He never allowed me from his sight, showing me things that led me to believe Pokemon were abused and killed each day by humans. There was a time, however, that a small squad of the police force ambushed us, and we were separated. My… significant other, at the time, who I had met in Vertress City - her name was Luna - found me, and together we traveled to Accumula Town. She was a trainer, you see, and with her, I was able to see a world that my father had been trying to hide from me my whole life. I was able to see that Pokemon and people can live in harmony."

"Does your father believe in this goal of Team Plasma?"

"No. He is a trainer. I can only guess his motivations, but he had always convinced me that to free Pokemon was his purpose in life."

"Ironic," King grunted. "I'm guessing that, since he wanted you to believe he hated trainers and everything, he wasn't too happy about Luna."

"No. He was not."

N stared with a blank look at his food. King raised an eyebrow. There was something that he wasn't saying. He didn't mind, though. Everyone had their secrets and the things that it was hard to talk about to other people. King was no different, and N probably wasn't either.

"So?" King said. "What are you planning on doing about this?"

"I have already tried to stop my father once and failed. That was how haxorus was injured," N said. "There is another chance. Team Plasma is gathering for a large rally inside Nimbasa City. I will go to this and tell them all what a grave mistake they are making. Surely, if they see that the face of their organization has changed his mind, then most of them will as well, or at the very least, doubt the road they've taken."

King rubbed his chin, looking N up and down. "Don't you think your father is going to do everything he can to stop you?"

"Yes. Without a doubt. He has six… five powerful trainers under his command, as well."

_Five, huh? _Standing, King threw his arms over his head, exhaling as he stretched. "Well, we can head to the city proper in the morning. For now, you should finish that food and then get some sleep. Originally, I'd gotten a room with two beds instead of one because of zoroark, but he won't mind. Ain't that right, buddy?"

King smiled at his Pokemon, who got to a stand without complaint.

"Uh, King?" N asked, sounding reluctant.

"Yeah?"

"What do you mean, 'we'?"

"I'm going with you. I figured, if your father is a trainer, and he's got those five with him, I can help you stop him. No need to thank me, or anything. I originally never planned on caring about what Team Plasma was doing, let alone getting involved with them, but things have gotten way out of hand if they're trashing cities now."

N smiled softly. "Thank you."

"Didn't I say there was no need?" King said, sitting on the bed and beginning to pull his shoes off.

"You really have changed, as zoroark claims. When I first met you, and I don't mean offense, but I thought of you as nothing more than… an asshole."

King snorted, chuckling. "None taken."

"So… I want to give you something."

King looked up, one shoe in his hand. When he did, N was standing, holding out a Pokeball. Haxorus' Pokeball.

King balked at it. "N. I can't take that."

"Please do. I am not fit to be a trainer, not after everything I've done."

Zoroark stepped beside N. He nodded to King.

A haxorus? She would be a welcome addition to his team under any circumstance, but could he take the Pokeball? She was N's, not his. But…

King sighed, grasping it. His fourth Pokemon.

"I have trust that you will take good care of her, after what I have seen and what zoroark has told me. She is very special." He returned to eating.

Zoroark sat next to King. _It was the right choice._

He placed the Pokeball at the foot of his bed. "I hope so. Come on, let's get you in your Pokeball."

_Sleep well._

"Right back at ya'." He returned zoroark, then placed him next to haxorus, unhooked rufflet and palpitoad, and put them there, as well, then tucked himself in for the night.

N soon finished his eating and clicked off the light. King heard the creak of the other bed as he got into it. Sleep came on for King quickly enough: a dreamless, deep, and peaceful slumber.

In the morning, the sunlight trickling in through the one window splayed across his eyes, waking him up. He blinked a few times, yawned, then looked across at the other bed.

N was gone.


	38. Chapter 37

N ran toward the dark spires that were the buildings of Nimbasa City, determination enough to keep his arms and legs pumping despite his ragged breaths. Thanks to King's kindness, his hunger was sated, and although King had also shown his transformation by offering to help him stop Ghetsis and the Sages, N could not accept his aid.

He was thankful for it, of course, but he could not. Ghetsis might have manipulated him, but it was N who had formed Team Plasma. He had spoken all those times to the populace, convincing them that Pokemon were slaves. He had killed Drayden in the name of a cause he no longer believed in. That meant he had murdered someone for no reason.

He could have blamed his father, but he did not. It was his fault, and so he would fix everything himself. King did not need to endanger his life and the lives of his Pokemon to undo N's mistakes.

The first buildings that lined the edge of the city blurred past him as he sprinted, feet slapping on the concrete. As before, there was not a soul in sight that he could see, but he heard something coming from the distant inner-city. A buzz like he had stuck his head inside a bees nest - the clamor of thousands of people, of Team Plasma.

The rally was beginning.

Through narrow alleyways and streets, he ran, the noise growing louder, the sun beating against the skin of his neck, glinting in the many windows of the city. Sweat made trails down his face.

He licked his lips as he ran, tasting salt. He did not have a plan, not exactly, for how he would get around Ghetsis if he tried to stop N with his Pokemon. Yet, if the people saw that his father was a trainer, and, in addition, saw that he was attacking N, surely they would side with N.

That was why he pushed himself to sprint. He could not be caught by Ghetsis when there was no one around to witness the exchange. He didn't dare slow, not even for a second to catch his breath, and soon, with the blaring hum of conversation ringing in his ears, he turned a corner, and there they were, gathered in the center of the amusement park.

N staggered to a stop, panting hard. There were thousands, as he had guessed, squeezed between Ferris wheels and roller coasters like a river flowing around jutting rocks. There were clothes of every color. N could not see where his father or the Sages were, but he was positive they were somewhere nearby, waiting to make their speech.

He scanned the area._ There must be somewhere to stand that would allow all of these people to see me._

There. A set of painted red stairs that led to a platform at the base of a Ferris wheel. It was there that he would make his stand.

Having regained his breath, he started toward it. Oddly, he began to think of the times when he was a small child when he would see his father and love him and hug him. Ghetsis had not been around often, but N recalled those days that he had as days that he was happiest. Had Ghetsis been evil, even back then?

Yes. He had. N still did not know the full reason, but it was then that his father began to show him dead and injured Pokemon.

He supposed that most of his life was a lie because of Ghetsis. The thought turned his stomach. He could not say with certainty that he loved the man as a father any longer. Once this was all over, once he had thwarted Ghetsis' plans, perhaps his father could be redeemed. There could be a small amount of good left in him, even after everything he had done.

As he reached the edge of the crowd, the same thing that had happened in Castelia City happened again. People did not recognize him at first, but when he progressed further, his presence became known. Word of what he had said in that city hadn't spread far, for people gasped and called out his name. Soon, each person was turning to look in his direction, some straining to catch a glimpse. People parted for him as if he were a celebrity. He did not necessarily like the attention, but it was what he had counted on: it was necessary if he were to show them the error of their ways. The error of what he had shown them.

He stepped on to the platform. He turned so that he was facing them. They waited expectantly to hear his words, beaming at him, eyes wide and mouth hung ajar or split into grins. He looked around at them.

N held out his arms, as he once did while giving a speech. He opened his mouth.

A crack like lightning, sharp and abrupt, made his close it again. N would recognize that sound anywhere.

A gunshot.

At first, he did not feel anything more than a slight impact, as if someone had lightly slapped him. He looked down. Blood seeped into the white cloth of his shirt. His arms fell limp, people screamed; one of his hands went to the wound at the center of his chest. The warm liquid coated his palm. _So much. Why is there so much?_

He staggered back. Someone had shot him.

The crowd erupted into a rampage of screams, distant echoes to N's ears. Suddenly his legs no longer supported him. He fell to his knees, vision blurry, searching for who had done it.

The mob became a wave of movement and shouts and ferocious scrambling.

And then N saw him.

Standing at the far edge of the crowd was a man dressed in the uniform of a police officer. The hand that held the gun pointed toward N was charred and black.

It was his father, holding the gun that N once used to kill Drayden.

Ghetsis cackled. Some turned to look at him, pointing. Soon all saw who had fired the shot. A police officer, they would think.

N collapsed. _What… what is happening? No… no… this cannot…_

He clawed toward the edge of the platform. Black encroached at the corners of his vision. Strength fled his arms, until the point where he could no longer use them. He was cold. So very cold.

His eyes began to close, the blackness taking over. He still did not feel any pain, but the thoughts that came through his befuddled brain knew something was wrong.

_Luna. _So cold. He thought that if only he had Luna beside him, maybe then he would not be so cold.


	39. Chapter 38

(I am no longer sick, yay! I'll be updating the story every day again. Thanks imagnair for the kind words :) Enjoy! )

"N must have gone into the city. Where else would he be? He said there was that rally here and all that."

_Hm. That sounds reasonable to assume._

King scratched at his cheek, scanning the city as they walked. He barely saw anything other than broken glass shards glinting in the sun, along with discarded trash tumbling along the sidewalks, but N was bound to be somewhere in Nimbasa, and so King and zoroark kept on going. The wing was blowing hard, plastering King's shirt to his chest, and he couldn't hear anything besides its howling. It was strange to be in a city without the honking horns and the low hum of conversation.

"They trashed this place," he said. "Seriously. The military must be having one hell of a time trying to fix everything. It's ironic, though, that N's the one to stop it, what with him having started it in the first place."

_You know he's changed, King. It looked like he meant what he was saying to me._

King nodded slowly. "Suppose it did, zoroark. Suppose it-"

A loud crack interrupted him: a sound almost like a balloon popping. King recognized it, and froze in place, prompting zoroark to do the same.

_What is it?_

"That was a gunshot," King said quietly.

More noise broke through the veil of silence, carried by the gusts as if the gunshot were the first rock falling before a massive avalanche. Gradually, the distant hum grew louder until King could decipher what he was hearing. Screams and shouts. People crying out. He thought he could hear the roar of car engines and wailing sirens.

He nudged zoroark's arm, then broke into a run. It all appeared to be coming from one direction. "Come on, that's probably the rally! It sounds like they're rioting."

Zoroark kept pace to his right, long, red and black hair streaming out behind him. _Why would someone shoot a gun?_

They turned a corner. Cars abandoned at the sides of streets blurred by them. "I don't know, zoroark. We're about to find out."

King's heart thrummed in his ears as he ran, arms pumping. Was N alright? If he had started to speak in front of the crowd, and they hadn't liked what he'd told them, that bullet might have had his name on it. The thought turned King's stomach, permeating his mouth with a bitter taste. N was trying to fix his mistakes and do what was right. King knew what that was like, and it wasn't always easy.

The tops of Ferris wheels and the curving tracks of roller coasters were visible above the roofs of buildings long before they ever reached the amusement park in the center of the city. The rioting seemed to be escalating, from what King could hear, until it sounded as though he and zoroark were right on top of it.

They turned another corner. King stumbled and would have fallen if zoroark hadn't caught him. He couldn't even form the words in his mouth to thank the Pokemon.

The people were going insane. They were destroying some of the attractions, knocking over vending machines, toppling benches. Blood splattered the pavement from where people fought one another; for reasons King could only begin to guess. The acrid smell of smoke drifted in the air, trailing from the tongues of lapping flame that engulfed sections of the park. People ran, scattering, while others chanted 'down with the government!'. A news helicopter circled above.

"These are all Team Plasma members? What the hell set them off so much?" King asked, bewildered. He had to shout so zoroark could hear him, even though the Pokemon stood right beside him. "Come on! We have to find N!"

He darted forward, zoroark close at his heels. He moved this way and that to avoid those running by him, away from the rioting. Not all of them had completely lost their sense of reason and had it replaced with a feral need to destroy things, it seemed. _What the hell is wrong with these people?_

He didn't have any idea where N was, but he would have chosen somewhere high up, where the whole crowd could see him if he was going to give a speech. But where was that? Or was he even in that spot any longer?

_Why did he have to run off like that? I offered to help the damn guy. I offered to help!_

_Look! There! _King spun to look where zoroark was pointing. A platform below a Ferris wheel, where people would step onto before they entered one of the cars. There was a body there, face down and unmoving. The man had long green hair.

N.

"They shot him," King whispered. "They fucking shot him!"

He started in that direction when something crashed into him, sending him sprawling on the ground. His head smacked against the pavement, making his eyes go blank for a moment. When he came to, spots of light danced across his blurry vision, and a bearded face snarled at him. Hands gripped his shoulders.

"Trainer!" The man shouted, spittle flying. "Trainer!'

King clamped his jaw, trying to wriggle his way out, but the man kept him pinned. He reeled an arm back, blocking out the sun. King flinched, grimacing.

Suddenly the weight was off of him. He blinked as zoroark helped him stand.

"Thanks, buddy," he said, using zoroark to steady himself. Zoroark nodded. The man lay sprawled out a few feet away, groaning and holding his stomach. King turned his eyes back toward the platform.

_The attention. It's on us now._

People had stopped in their rampaging to point and gasp. They were going to try and stop King, maybe even injure him. Or kill him. Where was the person who had the gun?

"I don't care," King said, shaking his head. "We have to get to N and-"

He stopped himself mid-sentence, become aware of the sirens blaring over the noise of the riot. Within seconds, box-shaped, black cars drove in from where King had come from, pulling together in a line to block off the street. Police in helmets and bullet-proof vests filed out, carrying riot shields on their arms.

The attention turned away from King. Some were already charging the police, but most just shouted at them. The fires throughout the park raged, heating the air, tendrils licking the sky, and creating a haze of smoke.

"Zoroark. Let's get to N!"

The Pokemon nodded, taking hold of King's shirt. He leaped, pulling King along.

King landed roughly, banging his knees on the metal. He ignored the pain, squatting next to N. He wasn't moving. Blood had seeped into the cloth of his shirt, staining it crimson. King laid a hand on his shoulder. His skin looked pale.

He almost didn't want to flip him, but N needed help. He was still alive, and King would have to take him somewhere where they could heal his injuries, wherever that damn person, whoever it was, had shot him. N had tried to do what was right, after so long of being in the wrong, and someone shot him for it. The world was a cruel place with awful, misinformed, and stupid people if they'd shot N for that.

Slowly, he pulled, turning N onto his back. King froze, his breath snagging in his throat, eyelids peeling back from his eyes.

There was a hole in the left portion of his chest. The sound of shouting and fires and stomping police officers, it all seemed to vanish, swallowed by silence. N's eyes were gray, without light; his face the color of the sky when it snows.

King swallowed hard, pushing down the lump in his throat, and wiped his face with a hand. He admitted to himself what he'd known since seeing N laying face down, not moving a single muscle.

He was dead. King had heard stories of what dead people looked like, but this was the first time he had ever seen one himself, had ever looked into their eyes. Nothing could have prepared him for it. It was only the night before that N had scarfed down three whole meals in one sitting, laughing while he did it. How could he have known? How could he have known that the next day would be his last?

Zoroark laid a claw on King's shoulder. _We must leave. Look._

King turned. The police had formed a line, placing their shields together. A dozen amoonguss took formation behind them, shooting spores into the air. People dropped like flies, falling asleep when they came into contact with the transparent yellow clouds.

He let zoroark lead him away from all of it and only allowed himself to think when they were on the outskirts of the city, far away from it all. Far away from N.

He slumped against the wall, placing his arms on his knees. He shook his head. "N should have let me help him. Dammit! He shouldn't have run off like that. Maybe I could have done…. Something."

Zoroark sat beside him. The Pokemon looked incredibly sad, though King couldn't decide how he could tell. _It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself._

"Do you know what this means, zoroark?" King said, turning.

_Hm. No. What?_

"N will become a martyr. I don't know who killed him, but he was the symbol for Team Plasma. His name will become a rallying call for all these people to rise against the government. I have a feeling that trainers like myself won't be too safe. Who the hell knows if I'll be able to finish the gym challenge, now?

_I'll stay with you. I've already decided that I will, and no matter what happens now, my mind will not change._

King smiled, standing. "I hope N at least got to say part of his speech. Thank you, zoroark. The world, or at least Unova, is about to change a whole lot, I think. A whole damn lot. I… just hope we're ready for it. Jeez, with all these people proclaiming that using Pokemon is wrong, it makes a guy start to doubt himself."

Zoroark stood as well. _Don't, King. You're doing the right thing._

"Yeah. I hope so. Come on, let's go… somewhere. Forget the Nimbasa gym. Anywhere but here."


	40. Chapter 39

Concordia couldn't stop her hands from shaking. She tried and tried, but they wouldn't stop, no matter how hard she gripped the cloth of her dress.

Ghetsis had killed N. Her brother was dead.

Her eyes burned something awful. She wasn't weeping anymore, not after so many hours had passed, but she still sniffed. A painful ache throbbed behind her forehead. Images of N when he was a small child, all innocent smiles, flashed in her mind, but she pushed them away as fast as she could, hastily wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands.

She couldn't think about it anymore. She just couldn't. She had to keep her mind blank, or else she felt that her heart might shatter in her chest - if it hadn't done that already.

She looked up from her lap. Anthea sat across from her on a bed identical in every way to hers. Her sister always seemed so composed, even when her eyes were red and puffy. Her jaw must have ached from being clenched so long, and she still held a phone in a white-knuckled grip. That was what they had used to find out what happened, borrowed from one of the Team Plasma members since Ghetsis had never allowed them access to technology.

"What do we do?" Concordia asked, voice croaked and hoarse. Anthea was much smarter than she was. She would know. "Why would father ever-"

"He is not our father," Anthea snapped, glaring at her. "How could you call him that, after this?"

Concordia opened her mouth, then closed it again. "You're right, I just… it was habit."

The translucent white window curtains fluttered, blowing inward. Cold air pushed Concordia's hair away from her face, and she shifted, glancing at her sister.

"You didn't answer my question. We can't stay, Anthea! We can't. What do you think we should do?"

Anthea stood suddenly, scrubbing her eyes. The phone thumped softly on the carpet when she dropped it. "Ghetsis is evil. That was him that shot N; you saw as well as I did."

"I… yes."

"I overheard something the other day," she said, furrowing her eyebrows like she always did when she was angry. "Ghetsis was talking to that dog Zinzolin, and Zinzolin gave two stones to Ghetsis. One was light, the other dark."

Concordia gasped. "You don't mean…"

"Yes," Anthea nodded. "I don't know what Ghetsis has planned - he's always left us on the sidelines - but he's going to use the Legendary Pokemon for something. We're going to steal the Stones, and then we're going to run."

Concordia met Anthea's gaze. Fear clawed at her throat. They had never gone against their father before, but he had done something unforgivable, this time. There wasn't any mistaking that charred arm. Other people might not have noticed because Ghetsis always had the arm tucked into the sleeve of his rove, but she and her sister did.

Concordia stood. Reluctantly, she nodded, swallowing her fear, and Anthea led her out of the room. Her hands still hadn't stopped shaking.

They turned right, heels clicking on the stone flooring. As they walked, they sometimes passed members of Team Plasma who were on patrol, all of whom bowed to both of them, but Anthea ignored them, and so Concordia did the same, though she felt a stab of guilt as she did so. How many of them knew of Ghetsis' plans? How many knew that he didn't think all of the Pokemon should be free?

She walked closer to Anthea, who strode purposefully through the halls. The only light came from the few chandeliers above, and shadows hung in the corner. Distant echoes drifted through the stone corridors.

Anthea knew what to do. She knew.

Another image flashed through Concordia's mind, this time of her father pulling the trigger. The pop that followed. N dropping, falling-

No. She wouldn't think about it.

Her mind went blank. She might need Anthea more, but Anthea needed her, as well. Concordia had to be strong like her sister was. Not a single good thing would come if she broke down in the middle of the hallway.

Anthea held an arm in front of Concordia, stopping her. She looked ahead. At the end of the hall was a broad set of double-doors, figures carved into the wood. Two men, no doubt members of Team Plasma, guarded it, one on either side.

"That's where they're keeping the Stones," Anthea said.

"How are we going to get past them?"

Anthea lowered her arm. "Let me handle it. Stay behind me."

She strode forward. Even the way she walked radiated confidence. Concordia could never be like that. It was better this way.

Wiping her palms on her dress, she followed after her sister. When she caught up with her, Anthea was already talking to the guards. Or, it was rather more like she was scolding them.

"… You will do your duty and let us through, or my father will hear of this."

"B-but, My Lady-"

"No buts! Let us through or else!"

"Of course. Of course." He nudged his companion. The poor boy jumped into action, and the door creaked as they pushed it open, revealing the darkened chamber beyond. Concordia breathed a silent sigh of relief. A natural air of command was something Anthea had gotten from their father.

The chamber was both broad and extensive, made of sleek marble. At the wall farthest from them, was a small, rectangular platform covered by a glass dome. That was where Anthea went, but as soon as she stepped beside it, she growled in frustration.

"What is it?" Concordia asked concern bleeding into her voice. She jogged over, and when she came close enough to see, she knew what had upset her sister.

The Dark Stone was gone.

"Oh no, Anthea," Concordia whispered. "Oh, no!"

"It doesn't matter." She peeled back the casing of glass, then yanked out the Light Stone. "Just taking this will ruin his plans. Wherever the other one is, we don't need it."

She began to stomp away. Concordia grabbed her arm.

"Wait! Where are we going to take it? Fa- Ghetsis will know we're the ones who took it and send people after it!"

"You're right," Anthea said. She shrugged out of Concordia's grasp. "Only trainers can keep this safe for us, and there aren't any trainers more powerful than the Elite Four. We'll leave out that hidden exit. Remember it?"

Concordia opened her mouth to say something, anything, but Anthea was already leaving the room.

She could remember only very few other times when they had left the castle, and never without Ghetsis. Now they were going alone to the Elite Four. If someone had told her that morning that would be what she was going to be doing, she would have called them crazy. But she would have said the same thing if someone had told her that her father would kill her brother.

She squeezed her dress tight and ran after Anthea, with nowhere else to turn and an immense desire not to be left behind._ Please let us make it out of the castle safely. Please don't let anyone discover we have the Light Stone._


	41. Chapter 40

Dragonspiral Tower loomed in front of Zinzolin like a single, smooth fang sprouting from the bed of rough water at its base. Black clouds rolled across the sky, obscuring the top. Thunder boomed. Lightning snaked through the clouds.

Zinzolin stuck a hand into the folds of his robe, rain beating at his head. He procured a rounded black stone, the color of glossy ink - the Dark Stone: a dormant form of a dragon forgotten to history. Yet, soon, the whole world would fear the name Zekrom. That fool Ghetsis thought he knew everything, thought he controlled everything. He didn't control Zinzolin, not now that he'd finished with Ghetsis and his insipid games.

Zekrom would be his and his alone.

He stomped over the bridge leading into the tower's maw, wood thudding under his boots. He gripped the Stone close to his chest. He had only been able to grab one of them in his haste, but it mattered little. Ghetsis hadn't planned to summon the dragons for a long while yet. How surprised the fool would be when Zinzolin arrived with the powers of thunder at his command, and Ghetsis had yet to summon Reshiram. Zinzolin would finally kill that blasted old fool and solidify his rule over Unova. Team Plasma might not follow him afterward, but those extras were not needed, not when he had Zekrom to attract other followers.

The rain ceased its incessant pouring as he moved inside Dragonspiral. The walls shook and creaked against the force of the howling storm. A marble staircase spiraled upward into the darkness, cracked and splintered in places where years of decay had eaten away at it. The fierce winds blowing through the holes and cracks in the walls kicked up the smell of dust. Zinzolin started up the steps, beginning the arduous journey to the top floor of the tower.

His knees cracked, and his back ached as we went, beads of sweat forming at his temples. _Damn old age._ No longer was he the spry young man he had once been. If only he hadn't spent his youth performing experiments on Pokemon and people and instead devoted his time to his current goal of utilizing Zekrom, maybe he would never have had to deal with that fool Ghetsis. Zinzolin had done many things as a young man that he regretted, but none of them could he go back and fix unless there was some Pokemon, legendary or otherwise, that allowed a human to transport themselves back in time. He resolved to research it at a later date, once he had declared his rule.

Years ago, at first, he had followed Ghetsis after being enticed by promises of power and wealth. It wasn't long before he realized that that fool Ghetsis hadn't the slightest intention of giving away a single bit of his power, once he obtained it. That was fine with Zinzolin. Having partners was bothersome after they ran dry of their uses, and Zinzolin had no use for Ghetsis any longer. Once the government collapsed and Ghetsis put his plan into motion, taking over the Elite Four, Zinzolin would swoop in with Zekrom, and that moment would be Ghetsis' last. Then, Team Plasma's activities having already ensured that there were no more trainers, Zinzolin would govern on a throne of iron.

He reached the top of the steps, panting. The air was humid, sticking to his skin, condensing between the parts of his robe. He growled, frustratingly wiping his forehead, and strode into the main chamber.

Columns, broken as if raked at by giant claws, lined the room in rows. Swirling patterns decorated the flooring, and the walls by cracked mosaics that would have once depicted drawings of the dragons. From a hole at the far wall, Zinzolin could see out into the heart of the storm, where rain stirred, and lightning pulsed periodically like a heartbeat.

The wind gusted inward, blowing hot air against his face. He came to the center of the room and bent, placing the Dark Stone between two columns, then stepped back and folded his arms into the sleeves of his robe. He waited, anticipation causing him to breathe in short, excited bursts. This was the moment he had waited for for a long, long time. _Come to me, Zekrom. Come to your master!_

And he continued to wait. Nothing occurred. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but even so, he waited. The dragon would sense his presence, sense him calling to it, and appear, reading to serve his commands.

Minutes passed. Then an hour. Still, there was nothing.

His patience spent, Zinzolin raged, kicking the Stone. It smacked against a column, sounding like marble on wood, echoing in the chamber as it clattered to the floor. Zinzolin turned his back on it, seething, jaw clenched, fingers squeezed together.

Why was it not working? He had read how the damn thing was supposed to activate, studied the ancient tombs night after night. Zekrom would appear for the Hero that summoned it. _Am I not attempting to summon you, you stupid dragon?_ _What could-_

Zinzolin froze, looking down. His shadow had begun to spread along the floor, molding with the blackness that stretched from the pillars.

He spun, face splitting into a broad grin. The Dark Stone was glowing bright and radiant blue, trapped lightning churning within the orb, zapping against its restraints.

Zekrom was awakening.

Zinzolin began to run toward it. And was stopped by an immense, ear-shattering boom accompanied by a great flash of white light.

The impact thrust him back, causing him to tumble across the ground like some discarded pebble. His ears rang; his eyes burned. He cried out as his back cracked against one of the pillars, sending a wave of sharp pain thudding between his shoulder blades.

He could not see. He felt the air around him churn and gather speed, whipping at his clothes; felt sudden bullets of rain tear at his skin as if it were paper.

Scrubbing his eyes, he blinked furiously, trying to see. Needing to know.

Slowly, he pulled open his eyes.

Zekrom stood in the middle of the chamber, floating slightly above the ground. Its appearance had ripped away the tower's roof. The storm that flooded inward seemed to wreathe around the Pokemon, cloaking its black form. Beady red eyes like pricks of blood regarded Zinzolin, judged him as no more than an insect to be squashed underfoot.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the Pokemon where it floated, tail glowing a vibrant blue, black scales glistening with water.

_It is perfection._

The image was the last thing Zinzolin saw before lightning crashed atop him, more potent than anything caused by nature, dissolving his skin and shattering his bones. He did not even have time to scream before he became little more than dust.

Unguided by any master, Zekrom flew off into the night. The black clouds, matching the color of its scales, veiled it from human eyes.


	42. Chapter 41

Castelia wasn't the same as when King had lived in the city, not in the slightest. The buildings themselves, of course, were mostly unchanged in their appearance: rising towers of metal lined with window after window. It was the people, the atmosphere, that had changed as if everyone had a storm cloud over their heads. As if they were all waiting with uncertain, bated breaths for what would happen next.

King ambled through a long street parallel to Castelia's harbor; a chilly breeze gusted around him. Since it was almost winter, flakes of snow drifted down from a whitewashed, dull-colored sky. The noise of the water lapping against the docks and the creaking of boats filled his ears, but what he didn't hear was the loud conversation of sailors that would typically be present this close to the harbor. Now, the place was practically deserted, with only a few hunched souls mulling about between the ships.

He stopped, shoving his hands in his pockets as he watched those few. Exactly as he'd thought, N's death had sparked a new period in the pointless revolution against Pokemon that raged throughout Unova. No one was buying Pokeballs - or anything similar, like potions - anymore, attending events meant to showcase Pokemon battles, and refusing to go to any Pokemon-themed stores or parks. People were even going so far as to kidnap trainer's Pokemon in broad daylight. The government had tried to contain it all, but they were failing, and as such, the economy was collapsing; King couldn't even walk with zoroark in the street, and so had no one to converse with as he went. Usually, he would ignore petty glares and sneers, but when people started attacking him, that was a whole different story. It was either hurt them or let them hurt him.

Turning away from the harbor, he started down a different street, this one broad and lined on either side by glass-walled shops and businesses. Homeless people, who the failing economy had already screwed over, huddled together here in alleys and corners, shivering against the cold. King was fortunate enough to still have money left over from the tournament, but who knew how long that would last? Inflation wouldn't be too far off.

What he didn't understand was how the misguided people who'd joined Team Plasma hadn't seen the collapse coming. Surely they'd been smart enough to realize that, in taking away Pokemon, one of the pillars that supported society, things would come crashing down.

He stopped walking, breathing in a deep breath of cold air through his nostrils. Before N had… died, he'd said that his father, the leader of Team Plasma, was planning something big, but he didn't know what. A collapse of the economy could have been his goal. But why? Why would anyone want to throw a whole region into turmoil?

_Because people will do damn awful things if it benefits them. Look around you._ _Would any of these people hesitate to steal all of your money if they could?_ He sighed. There wasn't any use in thinking like that, and there especially wasn't anything he could do to fix the economic problem. He wasn't worried about it, either; he would survive, no matter what happened. Even if money lost all its value and people had to bargain, hunt, and farm to live.

Soon, after walking the street a small way from where he'd stopped to think, he arrived at the reason that he was even in Castelia. The gym, run by the bug-type specialist - though why any would use only bug types, he didn't know - Burgh. When King had lived in Castelia, he would pass the place every day on his way home from work and stare at it for a few minutes - at the very least - wishing he could become a trainer but never thinking he could be good enough.

Back then, golden light would spill from the gym onto the street, and trainers would enter and exit throughout the day, coming from around Unova to earn their next gym badge.

As he watched it from across the street, he hardly recognized the place as that same building. Rioters had shattered the sliding glass doors that led inward, the same with the few windows along the front. The neon sign that was one of the gym's signature features hung by a thread, barely managing to stay on at all; the bulbs that used to give it light long since destroyed. He hoped that Burgh had made it out safely, but he hadn't heard a single thing about the gym leader on the news.

To say it was a depressing sight was an understatement. What had the world come to, destroying gyms like that? He wasn't sure what to think anymore, or what he should feel about being a trainer. He knew that using Pokemon wasn't wrong - that had always been a bunch of crap - but sometimes he felt a little voice clawing at the back of his mind, telling him to abandon the life he'd chosen. Zoroark, and his other Pokemon, too, when zoroark translated what they said - especially haxorus - confirmed for him that they wanted nothing more than to be his Pokemon. Still, he couldn't help but consider what the point was. The gyms were all shutting down: that meant no gym challenge. He'd begun thinking of the future, at times, and what his plans would be if not a single person would talk to him because he chose to keep Pokemon at his side.

There was one thing he had to do first, though, before he sat himself down and thought hard on a decision. There was one gym leader who would never abandon his Pokemon, not even if some god came from the heavens and proclaimed being a trainer was wrong and immoral. On top of that, if people tried to attack his gym… well, King wasn't sure what would happen then. _It doesn't matter. I can win against him now. No doubt-_

"King? No way is that you. No _way_."

He blinked, turning toward the voice that addressed him. It was a middle-aged woman, snowflakes stuck in her brown hair, with narrow, rat-like features. She was holding a plastic bag full to the brim with groceries.

It clicked as soon as he looked at her - his old landlord.

"Stephanie?"

Her eyes narrowed. "It _is_ you. I'd recognize that flippant voice anywhere. You have some nerve coming back to the city after what you pulled."

He grunted, turning fully towards her. "I'm sure you found someone else to live there in-"

"-in your place, yes," she snapped. "But it didn't help that we had to move your things out on our own after you vanished!"

"I'm sorry, Stephanie," he said, genuinely meaning it. "I had some things going on then, but, you know, I suppose I should thank you for not getting the authorities and whatnot involved. Here: some cash to pay you back." He reached around to dig in the pack slung over his shoulders, where he was currently keeping his Pokeballs. He supposed it had been long enough since the Vertress Tournament that no one recognized his looks, either.

Stephanie stopped him with a sigh and a curt gesture. "No. There's no need. Your money won't be worth much soon, anyway. Everything is coming down around us."

He glanced at the gym, then back at her, nodding and returning his hands to his pockets. "You could say that again. How're you faring these days?"

"No better than anyone else," she said, shaking her head. "Most of my tenants lost their jobs and haven't been able to pay rent. You know what that means for me, Parkman."

"Hm. You sure you don't want-"

"That'll be the day, Parkman, when I start taking handouts from you."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

A car sped past them, engine humming. It made him realize the lack of them on the road. Yet another thing that had changed. He ran a hand through his hair and brushed the accumulating snow off his shoulders.

"I should get going," Stephanie said. "I'm surprised to say this, but… it was nice talking to you again."

He smirked despite himself. "You take care of yourself, Stephanie. Don't let the world bog you down too much."

Shaking her head, she moved around and past him, mumbling something about how that would be damn near impossible to do. He watched her retreating form for a few minutes, then turned back to studying the broken gym.

There was nothing left for him in Castelia. Humilau City was his next destination. He wasn't nervous about confronting his father. Everything would be fine.

He sighed. _Well. Might as well get started on the journey._


	43. Chapter 42

Concordia bounded up the grand set of marble stairs that led to the Elite Four building, located at the very pinnacle of the mountain. As high up as they were, it was difficult not to shiver against the chilly air and bouts of cold wind.

She clutched the Light Stone to her chest. After fleeing the castle, she and Anthea had had to travel through a narrow expanse of tunnels known as Victory Road. A local had told them that it was the last trial trainers had to go through, filled with other trainers and powerful Pokemon, but, when Anthea and Concordia passed through, it'd been strangely empty of both.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, Concordia knew it was because of Ghetsis and Team Plasma. After he had killed-

She blinked. Ahead of her, the spires of the Elite Four building rose into view. Anthea was already almost to the top of the stairs; she was much more athletic than Concordia, that had been so since they were little girls. Concordia was laboring to breathe normally, but the thought of taking a break didn't cross her mind. _We have to get the Light Stone to them. We have to!_

Unconsciously, however, she staggered to a standstill, eyes widening and chest heaving, once she could see enough of the building. It was amazing.

The peaks of the twisting, beige-colored spires along the domed roof poked at the sky veiled in a sheet of dark blue. Intricately designed columns between flowing arches of stone lined the front entrance. The castle where she'd lived all of her life was brilliant, yes, but this was new: something she'd never seen before. She loved the sight of it, but at the same time, it did make her think of home, and how she might never get to return there. Her gaze flickered away.

"What are you doing?" Anthea called from the top of the steps, hands on her hips. "Stop staring and get up here!"

Concordia started, flushing. She meant to pass the last few steps quickly, but in her haste, the Light Stone slipped from her grasp.

She cried out as it clattered down the stairs.

"Oh, no!" She said, holding her dress as she scrambled after it. "I'm so sorry, Anthea, I-"

But her sister was already sprinting down the steps faster than Concordia could have ever hoped to. Before long, she reached the Light Stone and snatched it in one hand. She glared at Concordia from below.

Concordia looked away guilty, feeling the heat gather in her cheeks. "Anthea…"

"This is why I should know better than to let you hold things," Anthea said, passing by her with the Light Stone held firm, lines of anger creasing her expression. "You clumsy oaf."

_I didn't mean it. Why do things have to happen?_ She followed her sister the rest of the way to the building, walking across a long, paved walkway.

Before they could get very close, a man and a woman wearing uniforms that were similar to what Concordia knew police officers wore, based on the pictures she'd seen of them, approached. Anthea moved forward to address them, while Concordia stayed a little way behind so that her sister could converse without having to worry if Concordia would mess her up.

"Don't take another step further," said the woman. Concordia realized that their postures were quite hostile, with shoulders tense and hands on their belts. "We've already told your kind what will happen to any further protesters."

Anthea frowned. "Do we look like protesters?"

The two guards exchanged glances. "Well, no," the man said, "but that doesn't mean anything. Why else would you have come? That's the only reason anyone shows up here these days. To protest."

"Not us," Anthea insisted. She held up the Light Stone; sunlight catching on its pearl-like surface. "Do you have any idea what this is?"

"Never seen it," the woman shrugged, looking to her partner, whose face hadn't changed in its blandness.

Anthea inhaled a deep breath. "This is the Light Stone."

"The what?" Asked the female guard.

"The Light Stone. The dormant form of the dragon Reshiram."

Both of the guards balked, their surprise finally clear to see. Their father had told Concordia and Anthea all about the fairy tales when they were little, but it was still hard to imagine that a tiny item contained something so very powerful.

The male guard leaned forward, squinting his eyes at the Stone. "That thing? It can't be; you're pulling my leg."

"I am not," Anthea growled. "We're here to give it to the Champion for safekeeping."

"Could be some kind of bomb," the woman guard noted. "I don't trust it."

"Me neither," said the man, standing straight.

Anthea grunted. "You seem awfully calm if you think this is a weapon."

Concordia watched in silence as the three of them continued to bicker. The guards remained tense; it seemed to her that maybe recent protests made them more anxious than usual, which she understood. She wasn't positive about the full extent of the hatred toward trainers and their like, but she knew it mustn't be good, or easy, for the guards, who only wished to do their jobs and support themselves and their families, if they had them. Anthea didn't seem to see that. She was getting angrier as the seconds passed, but Concordia understood her, too. The Elite Four and the Champion could be their only hope if most of the trainers no longer used Pokemon.

She shifted, grabbing at her dress, feeling the cloth crumple between her fingers. This was taking too long. There was no doubt that their father knew about their betrayal. What if he had sent people to find them? To capture them?

She glanced over her shoulder. Jagged mountains like serrated teeth rose in the distance, clouds piling together over them. Something felt wrong. They needed to hurry.

She looked back at Anthea, opening her mouth, then closing it again. She thought she had an idea for how to convince the guards… but what would Anthea say when she interfered? She loved to take charge and do things herself, and wouldn't take kindly to Concordia stepping in.

They had no time. She didn't know how she knew, but something was very wrong. Something was coming.

She started forward, still holding the side of her dress tight. Anthea stopped talking in her raised voice and glanced at Concordia, while the two guards almost seemed to notice her for the first time.

She stepped beside her sister, avoiding her gaze and smiling in what she hoped was a friendly way. "Hello," she said. "My name is Concordia."

Anthea rolled her eyes. The male guard crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, while the female guard looked at her speculatively.

"I think I understand why you're both a little apprehensive about letting us in," she said. "Why don't you follow us inside and watch as we talk to the Champion, to, um, make sure that we don't have any other intentions? And if the Champion thinks it's too dangerous, then we can leave, but, please, we at least want to see what he says. Maybe he'll recognize the stone?"

The three of them stared at her. She shifted under their gaze. _Oh no, what have I done? I've only made myself look stupid. I should have left everything to Anthea. She knows-_

"Hm. I _suppose_ that we can allow that," the male guard said, looking to his partner. "What do you think?"

The female guard nodded, sighing. "I'm finding it hard to picture this one with any sort of evil intention. Yeah, alright. We'll let you in, but we'll be keeping a close eye on you."

They turned, motioning for her and Anthea to follow them into the building.

Concordia smiled weakly at her sister, loosening the grip she held on her dress, but Anthea scowled, stomping after the guards. Concordia's smile faded. She should have known that Anthea wouldn't like to be interrupted.

She couldn't worry about that now. There wasn't any time.

The three of them were already almost to the columns that marked the entrance. Concordia flushed, lifting her dress to keep it from tripping her as she ran after them.

Past the swirling white pillars was a spacious room with a tiled, mosaiced floor, and a flat roof that blocked the sun overhead. Grey darkness seeped from the corners, bathing the room. Their footsteps echoed as they walked toward a set of double doors made of dark wood. The only light came from a lamp on either side of the door, casting a sphere of golden light in front of it that pushed away the shadows. The guards entered the light, the door creaking as they pushed it open. They ushered Concordia and Anthea through. Concordia followed close at her sister's side.

Concordia stepped gingerly on a long, red carpet like the tongue of a beast, hoping that she wouldn't track any mud or dirt on it. The carpet trailed to a white stone dais, almost like the one they had at home, where a man with fiery red hair sat. Sunlight bathed over him from a circle of stained glass windows above him. There was a door in each of the corners of the room.

"Oh!" The man called, standing. "What have we here?"

The guards closed the door behind them, then led them forward. That must be the Champion. She swallowed hard. He didn't look very intimidating - but she was in the presence of Unova's strongest trainer. How many battles had he fought? How many times had he won?

The two guards stopped at the foot of the dais, and Anthea and Concordia a small way behind them. Anthea glanced sideways at her.

"Don't pull another trick like the one you did back there," she said. "Let me do the talking."

Concordia responded with a series of quick nods. "Right. Okay."

The female guard flicked a thumb over her shoulder. "These two are claiming to have possession of a… Light Stone, they called it. They're not protesters, or so they claim. Could be a bomb, Alder. I'd be careful."

The Champion's expression darkened, his smile fading. "The Light Stone…" He came down the steps and gently pushed his way past the guards, coming to stand in front of Anthea and Concordia. She could smell the faint scent of cologne coming off of him as he moved toward Anthea, jaw set, and eyebrows raised.

"We came here to give this to you," Anthea said, holding the Stone in front of her. "Someone needs to keep it safe."

"So, it's not a bomb?" Asked the male guard.

The Champion chuckled, shaking his head. He seemed to regard the Stone with awe, and he held his hands a few inches away as if afraid to touch it. "No, this is far from anything like that. What you see, my friends is the dormant form of Reshiram: the White Dragon."

"They were telling the truth, then."

"I heard legends," the Champion said, "but never did I think that I would see it for myself." He looked up. "Where could you have possibly found it?"

Anthea shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Take it: you're one of the only ones who can keep it safe."

The Champion nodded. "I see. Many of the gym leaders have gone into hiding; many of the trainers have abandoned their Pokemon. We might be the only option, as you say."

"Yes. So take it."

"Yes… alright," he said.

He reached to take it.

The door burst open, flying from its hinges. The side that faced the outside room was charred; tongues of flame crawled along the surface. Smoke piled in through the open entrance, and four figures cloaked in robes moved inward.

The Champion's hand retracted from the Light Stone. Concordia's throat tightened as if squeezed by an invisible hand. The Sages. They've come for us.

"Who are you?" The Champion demanded. "What is the meaning of this?"

"We have come, dear Alder," said one of the Sages. She recognized the voice as Roods. "To usurp your throne. Unova is to have a new Champion."

They each simultaneously put a hand into their robes. A moment later, four Pokemon formed a line in front of them.

The Champion laid a hand on her shoulder and one on Anthea's. "You must leave. Take the Light Stone and go! Ah, Sylvia!"

A woman was running toward them. "Alder? What the hell is going on?"

"Look at this!" One of the Sages shouted. Concordia turned. Bronius. "We've found the missing sisters and the Light Stone. Aren't we lucky."

"You know these men?" The Champion questioned, then shook his head. "Bah. It doesn't matter. Sylvia; take them and go! I don't know who these people are, but the Light Stone must not fall into the wrong hands!"

Sylvia nodded and pulled an Ultraball from her waist. A salamence appeared in a flash of white light, and Sylvia hooped onto its back, waving for them to do the same. "Come! Let's get out of here!"

"But… the Cham-"

"Alder will be fine! Come on!"

"Do not let them escape!" Rood shouted, attacking with his scolipede. The Champion's conkeldurr appeared to block it.

"Go!" The Champion shouted. "Fly! Those other three and I will handle this!"

Concordia found herself too stunned to move. The Sages had come for them. Anthea hopped onto salamence and yanked her on after, grumbling. Concordia held close to her sister, hands shaking. Anthea squeezed one of them comfortingly.

They began to lift in the air as salamence flapped its wings, stirring the air around them. The Pokemon of the three other Sages were charging.

The wind blew against her face as they took to the air, bolting toward the section of glass ceiling. Salamence roared, and a pillar of fire crashed into the glass, shattering it. Sunlight played across the shards they flew past, out of the building, into the sky.

"Where are you taking us? Anthea said, shouting to be heard over the wind howling in their ears. "Who are you?"

"I'm one of the Elite Four!" Sylvia shouted, flying them in the opposite direction of the sun. "I'm taking you to Humilau: the nearest city. I'll need to go back to help Alder, but I'll come back for you! Keep that Stone safe until I've returned!"

Concordia squeezed her eyes shut, hair fluttering behind her. The Champion was risking his life for them. Where was Ghetsis? What did they mean 'a new Champion'?

What was he planning?


	44. Chapter 43

Salamence dove downward, kicking up sand as he skidded to a stop on Humilau's beach. Concordia breathed a long sigh of relief, the queasiness in her stomach settling as they arrived on solid ground. She let go of Anthea, rubbing her hands together. They were only shaking a little now.

Anthea shook her head as if to clear it, sliding off of salamence's back, and Concordia did the same. They both looked at Sylvia.

"I'll come back to check on you guys," she said, lifting in the air as salamence began to flap his wings. "Keep the Light Stone safe!"

Concordia grimaced, coughing as a wave of sand washed over her when salamence took again to the air. She realized, watching the Pokemon's retreating form, that it was snowing, a haze of flakes drifting from a white sky. A thin layer covered the beach and the roofs of the nearby wooden homes, placed in rows along vast stretches of dock. Concordia blew on her hands, shivering. She looked at Anthea.

"What… do we do now?" She asked. "What if Team Plasma comes after us?"

Anthea sighed, holding out the Light Stone. "Hold this for a second."

Concordia obliged. Despite how cold it was, the Light Stone felt warm against her palms, and so she held it close. Anthea began to scrub her hands through her hair, flattening the parts that were sticking up. The wind had been very potent while they were flying, but, while they were in the air, Anthea hadn't seemed to mind it at all. Concordia, however, had almost felt like she was going to faint: she and heights had never gotten along very well.

"Aren't you going to fix your hair?" Anthea said, nodding toward her.

Concordia cocked her head. "What's wrong with it?"

Her sister looked at her through half-lidded eyes. Concordia quickly used the hand that wasn't holding the Light Stone to adjust the unruly parts that'd escaped from her braid. When they were both finished, Anthea gestured for the Stone, and Concordia placed it into her hand. She supposed that after she'd dropped it, Anthea wasn't going to trust her with the responsibility any longer. Her chest felt heavy with shame when she thought of that.

"So, um," Concordia started, "you didn't answer my question, Anthea."

Anthea sighed again. She was doing that more often than she usually did. "I don't know what we're going to do with it until that Sylvia gets back." She paused, considering. "Well, actually, there's a gym here. We should at least check and see if, whoever the gym leader is, is here or not. We can give it to them if they are."

Concordia nodded. "Okay. Let's do that." As she expected, Anthea always knew the best thing for them to do. Her sister was amazing.

Anthea began to walk toward a set of wooden stairs led away from the beach and into the small, quaint town.

Concordia turned to regard the ocean, its foamy waves lapping against the shore. The smell of salt filled her nose. Shells of all different colors dotted the sand, and she thought she could make out the silhouettes of Pokemon as they swam through the turquoise water. It was the first time she had ever been so close to the ocean. The water was probably freezing, but she wanted to relax and swim in it. There was a whole world out there that she had never seen, full of Pokemon and color.

But there wasn't any time for that kind of leisure. She and her sister had a task to do, and with Team Plasma more than likely on their tails, she thought she might never get that kind of free time again. It was funny, because, when they had lived in the castle, all she'd had was free time. She had taken it for granted back then.

She turned and ran after Anthea, kicking up sand as she went. Together, they progressed up the steps and onto the docks. Concordia spotted the gym at the other end of the town, much larger than almost any other building, covered in a peaked thatch roof dotted with bits of snow. Anthea was already heading in that direction, feet tapping on the wood beneath them, and Concordia followed close at her heels.

Even though buildings of all different kinds lined either side of them, shops, and homes, the walkway toward the gym was oddly empty. The lights inside the houses were on, though, and Concordia could see figures moving inside when they passed the windows. It was probably in part because of the snow - flakes were already sticking to her hair - but she guessed that recent events involving Team Plasma made people want to keep to themselves. No boats were floating out in the ocean, either: sailors had docked most of them on a pier that stretched farther out than where the homes were.

Soon, they stood in front of the gym, staring at its front face dotted with many broad windows. Inside, Concordia could see the battlefield where trainers would fight the gym leader for the badge, but not much else.

"Are you sure we should go inside?" She asked, peering inward. "It doesn't look like anyone is in there."

"There's probably a back room," Anthea said. "It looks well-kept enough. The gym leader's probably-"

"What do you ladies think ya' doing, ogling my gym like that? No way in hell the pair of ya' are trainers."

Concordia spun to look behind her, toward where the voice had come from. Anthea did the same.

The man who'd addressed them was another person with red hair, his the color of a deep sunset. He had his arms crossed over his chest, and was very tall, with a hard face and cold eyes. Concordia couldn't accurately pinpoint why, but she immediately found herself not liking him. She didn't want to judge people before she got to know them, but... his eyes. There was something about them.

"This is your gym?" Anthea asked, apparently unperturbed by him.

"Isn't that what I just said, girl?" The man said. "Now, answer my question. You protesters?"

"Let's do this again," Anthea muttered, holding out the Light Stone. "We are _not _protesters. Do you recognize-"

But the gym leader was already jogging forward. He came close to Anthea, leaning forward and examining the Light Stone. There was a hungry look in those eyes of his. "Well, look what we have here! It's Reshiram itself!"

Anthea pulled away from him slightly, enough for Concordia to notice. _We can't give it to this man. There's something off about him._

"Ya' came here to give that to me, I'm guessing," the man said. "Well, hand 'er over. I assure you, ladies, I'll make good use of that there."

"Make good use of it?" Anthea backed away more. "What are you going to do with it?"

The man reached to grab it. Anthea yanked it away.

"No," she said. "I've changed my mind."

"No?" The man harrumphed. "What do ya' mean, no? That's what you're damn here for, isn't it? You were holding out that thing like you were giving me a damn birthday present!"

"I changed my mind," Anthe repeated, standing straight. "We're leaving." She brushed past the gym leader, holding the Light Stone tight against her chest. He watched her go with narrowed eyes.

Concordia scrambled after, looking anywhere but at him. "Anthea! Wait for me!"

But she didn't. Only when they turned a corner and were out of sight did she turn and face Concordia.

"He was going to use the Stone for his own benefit," she said, smacking a fist into the wooden building they stood next to. "We can't give it to him, either! Isn't there anyone who can take this stupid thing out of our hands?"

"Please don't worry, Anthea. You made the right choice," Concordia said. "There was… something about him. Sylvia will be back soon, anyway." She peeked around the corner. The gym leader was no longer standing in front of the gym, but she couldn't see where he might've gone.

"Well, whatever," Anthea sighed. "Come on, and we'll wait for her. Maybe she'll turn out to be a half-decent person."

Concordia pulled away from the wall, glancing over her shoulder at Anthea, who was already walking away. "R-right…"


	45. Chapter 44

King paced back and forth along the docks, wiping his hands on his pants, occasionally running them through his hair. After about damn near a thousand days of traveling, he'd finally arrived in Humilau City: his childhood home before his father had kicked him out of the house. King spent the entirety of the journey to Humilau trying to convince himself that he was ready to face his father, that there was less than nothing to be worried about.

All that preparation had been for nothing the second he'd stepped into the city.

He groaned, scrubbing his face with his hands as he plopped on the edge of the dock, feet dangling over the water. His breath turned to puffs of fog in front of him. _This isn't like me. I don't _get_ this nervous._

If you ever set foot in my gym, I swear I will make sure ya' wished ya' never became a trainer. His father's words echoed in his mind. What if King challenged that bastard and lost? It would mean that everything he'd ever said, about how King was worthless, about he'd never be good enough, were true. King had tactical strategy in battle; he had a bond with his Pokemon: something he'd been missing for the longest time. If he couldn't beat the bastard now, then he'd never be able to.

_Get six Pokemon first_, he thought. _You still only have four._ Yes. That was true. He would come back at a later time when he trained his Pokemon and captured two others.

He sighed, shaking his head. No, he couldn't do that. It was now or never. The economy of Unova, maybe even society itself, was collapsing. Who knew how long he'd even be able to remain a trainer? How long until protesters came to Humilau and made his father step down as gym leader?

Not very long, King guessed. If the bastard was even still around.

His gaze turned to the horizon. Flakes spun from the sky, melting into the clear waters, gathering on King's lap, head, and shoulders. The snow brought back memories of the winter he'd spent in Humilau as a kid. It never snowed much on this part of the cast - never enough to build a snowman or anything - but he'd spent a good amount of days running around with his mother, trying to catch the flakes in his mouth.

The waves bubbling against the pillars supporting the dock, as well, reminded him of his mother as did the salty smells and the grainy wood of the small houses, so different from the towering building of the city. She had loved all of it.

Thinking of those memories - and not the ones with his father - calmed him. The feeling of nervousness in his chest simmered down to an insignificant thing. His mother had at least been kind to him. That was the last person he'd ever truly been close with, he realized. He wasn't positive how he felt about that.

He pushed himself to a stand. _Now or never. It's time to show that old bastard what I can finally do._

Turning, he started to walk along the docks toward the gym at the other end of town, jaw set with determination. As long as protesters hadn't come and driven the bastard out, his father would be inside the gym. King wondered if gym leaders even got paid by the government anymore, considering the financial situation of Unova. Any gym leader still in business would necessarily be non-profit, he guessed.

He stepped in front of the gym, shaking. Whether it was because of the cold or another side effect of his nerves, he didn't know. He could see his reflection in the gym's windows and shook the snow out of his hair. No one seemed to be in there: challenger or gym leader. Not that King had expected there to be challengers, but since that was true, his father was probably in the back room.

The sliding glass doors parted for him as he moved forward._ Well. Here goes noth-_

A scream sounded through the town.

King froze, whipping around to look for its source. There was nothing he could see, but someone didn't scream like that unless they were in serious trouble. He bolted, momentarily forgetting the gym behind him, arms pumping and feet slapping against the dock. He turned a corner toward the shopping district, then stumbled, barely catching himself from falling as he pulled to a stop. His eyes went wide.

His father was fighting with two young women. He had hold of one of them, trying to yank something King couldn't see from her hands. The other was desperately attempting to pry his hands off of her companion.

"What in the hell is going on?" King shouted.

His father's arms went limp, releasing their grip on the item. The girl he was fighting with took the opportunity to scramble away, and she huddled together with the other girl, breathing heavily. King could make out what she was holding then, a large, pearl-like orb.

His father turned slowly. He looked King up and down with those same cold, lifeless eyes.

"Well, fuckin' well," the bastard said. "Look who it is. My degenerate of a son."

King straightened, his palms growing sweaty. He wouldn't back down. He _wouldn't_. "Wow, you've stooped lower than I ever thought possible. Assaulting women in broad daylight? Low, even for you."

"You mind ya' own goddamn business, boy," the bastard snapped. "Didn't I tell ya' what would happen if ya' ever set foot in this city again?"

King clenched his jaw.

"Well?" His father exploded. "Didn't I?"

Even after all the time he'd spent away from the bastard, King still fought the urge to cringe against that voice. Somehow he managed to keep a neutral expression, or so he hoped. "I know what you said. I'm here anyway. Good thing, too, else-"

"Oho! You didn't come to challenge me, did ya'? Did ya'?"

"That's exactly why I'm here, you old bastard."

His father cackled, bringing a hand to his waist. King realized that he had six Ultraballs strapped to his best. "I'm certainly glad I ran and grabbed these here, Pokemon, after all."

King reached back and pulled at the zipper on his pack. Immediately, a beam of white light shot from it, combining in front of King on the dock. Zoroark appeared a split second later.

I'm here, King. You can rely on me.

King smirked. "Miss ya', old buddy. Let's do this."

His father released a carracosta. The two girls backed up further.

A salamence crashed onto the dock between King and his father, a woman on the Pokemon's back. Wood splintered, chips scattering into the air. King staggered from the impact.

"Sylvia!" One of the girls, the one with the blond hair, said.

The woman slid off of salamence. "You two put away your Pokemon. There's no time for a battle."

She returned salamence to his Pokeball. King balked at the strange woman, and his father growled in annoyance.

"Sylvia," the bastard said. "Get out of the damn way."

"It's nice to see you, too," the woman - Sylvia - said, placing her hands on her hips. "Now. Stop acting like a child and put that Pokemon away. Ah, girls. I see you've kept the Light Stone safe as I asked. Good."

Who is this woman? Zoroark asked.

King shook his head, stepping beside him. "No idea. I'm not going to return you just yet: she seems to be directing her attention more at the old bastard."

"You're finally here," the pink-haired girl said. "Take this stupid Light Stone. We don't want it anymore."

Sylvia raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

The pink-haired girl glared at King's father. "It's too dangerous to have anymore."

"Don't tell me he tried to - oh, for crying out loud, put that carracosta away!"

His father grumbled but obliged, leaving King staring in surprise. The bastard had never listened to anyone. Who was this woman?

"You were trying to take the Light Stone, weren't you?" She asked.

"You bet your damn pants I was," the bastard snapped. "If it weren't for that boy over there, Reshiram would be mine already."

What the? Reshiram?

Sylvia turned to regard King, then just as quickly looked back at his father. "So you wanted Reshiram's power for yourself. Jeez, I should have known. But I can excuse both that and your nasty attitude if you agree to help me. Alder is…" She sighed. "Alder is dead. The Elite Four has been taken over by a group of extremely powerful trainers."

"They killed Alder?" The blond girl whispered, so quiet King could barely hear.

"Yes, they did," Sylvia nodded.

"Alright," his father said. "Give me the Light Stone, and you'll get all the help ya' need."

The pink-haired girl opened her mouth to say something, but Sylvia shook her head. "Not going to happen."

"Then the three of you fuckers can kiss my ass!" His father pushed past Sylvia, grumbling. He stopped when he walked next to King. "You got lucky this time, boy. You weren't ready. You'll never be."

He disappeared around the corner. King glared at his back.

Sylvia let out a long breath of air. "I hate that guy. He's your father, right?"

"Unfortunately."

"You two look alike," she said, rubbing her forehead. "I hope you don't act alike, too."

King shook his head. "No. We don't. I'd appreciate an explanation about everything that's going on here, though. What is this about the Elite Four falling?"

Sylvia nodded. "Yeah. Alright. Is there any place where we might be able to talk in private?"

"Not sure," King admitted. "Beach is probably the only one I can think of."

"Right. That's where we'll be going then. You two girls, you come as well. This is important. Extremely so.


End file.
